When Two Worlds Collide
by Teeheehee123
Summary: What happens when your past finally catches up with you?
1. Chapter 1

**Thank you so much for all of the great reviews for my last story. Here as promised is my new work, it is a bit of a departure from the style of my other stories, less angst and more drama/suspense. Please note that some of what is written in this story does not strictly follow the cannon of the show and this is deliberate and I hope in later chapters it becomes clear why I have done this.**

Pulling up at the latest crime scene, Horatio Caine took another look at the cell phone in his hand. _Nine missed calls _it said as he winced and placed it back in his trouser pocket. He knew he would not be able to ignore the calls much longer; sooner or later they would come looking for him here in Miami. Opening the driver's door with a sigh he jumped down from the Hummer and walked over to Eric who was crouched over the body. _"What have we got?" _he asked as he stood side-on, fiddling with the arms of his sunglasses.

The younger man glanced up with a frown, _"Another drive by. Looks like it was gang related"_

He resisted the urge to ask why, looking down at the clothes of the young Hispanic man he could clearly see the man was a gang banger, the tattoo of a snake on his neck the biggest giveaway. Nodding his head as he made a mental note of the scene, he asked almost as a second thought, _"Any witnesses?"_

_"No. None that are willing to talk, anyway" _Eric turned his gaze to the young boys across the street, standing in corners and whispering to each other. _"This whole neighbourhood is gang turf. No way anyone's going to want to be seen talking to the cops"_

_"Sorry I'm late. Traffic was murder this morning" _Both men turned their heads at the sound of the medical examiner's voice. The perky demeanour of the middle-aged man seemed somewhat out of place in the tense atmosphere of the latest gang-related shooting.

_"First impressions, Dr Loman?" _Horatio asked as he gazed in to the distance, keeping an eye on the boys across the street.

Crouching down to the body, Tom gave it a cursory look. Checking the pockets he found a wallet and handed it to Eric, frowning he pulled a pocketknife from the trousers and held it up to Horatio. _"Looks like the boy was carrying when he got shot"_

_"Any sign of a gun, Dr Loman?"_

Turning the body on its side the medical examiner glanced at the waistband, _"Doesn't look like it, unless it was picked up by one of our witnesses" _he said frowning as he inclined his head towards the growing crowd across the street.

_"Be sure to check that out, Eric" _Horatio instructed, the younger man nodded his head before returning his attention to Tom. _"Cause of death, doctor?"_

_"Bullet wound to the upper chest, 9mm of some sort by the looks of it. Chances are it transected the aortic artery looking at the blood pooling. I'll know more when I get him back to the morgue"_

_"Do that, Mr Loman. And keep me informed" _Placing his sunglasses back on Horatio strode back towards his Hummer, stopping as his cell phone rang once more. _Private number _read the caller ID, he didn't need to know the number, he knew who was calling him. For the tenth time that day he hit the _'Ignore' _button and placed the phone back in his pocket.

His thoughts drifted as he drove back to the lab, why was he trying to contact him and why now? It had been years since they had spoken, he'd made a new life for himself in Miami, his past had been kept secret up until now and he planned to keep it that way.

Climbing out from the Hummer he smiled and nodded at a pair of uniformed officers he met in the lobby of the crime lab. Making his way up in the elevator he reached the lab and informed the desk receptionist that he would be in his office if needed. Flustered, the receptionist nodded and attempted to speak, _"Lieutenant Caine, sir. Uhh…about your office…."_

Frowning in concern he walked closer to the clearly shaken women, _"Denise, what's wrong? Did something happen?" _His first thought was that a liaison from the US Army had come to inform him that something terrible had happened to Kyle. Horrific images of his son being shot or blown up by an IED flew through his mind.

_"Sir, there's a gentleman in your office. I tried to stop him but he was insistent, he said he was from the FBI. I'm sorry, sir" _she hung her head, unwilling to look the lieutenant in the eyes.

Relief washed over him as he realised that his son was safe, his eyes narrowed when Denise mentioned the FBI. _"Did he give you his name?"_

_"No sir, he refused to sign the visitors log either"_

He saw her bottom lip quiver; walking over to her he placed his hand on top of hers. _"Don't worry about it, I'll deal with it" _he smiled softly at her, trying to put her at ease. She gave him a watery smile as she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.

He stalked down the hallway towards his office, ignoring the smiles and the nods of heads of his colleagues. His mind was centred on one thing, tearing to pieces the man who had invaded his office. Throwing open the door he stood on the threshold, side on as he glanced up at the other man, _"What are you doing here?" _he growled as he fiddled with his sunglasses.

_"You wouldn't answer my calls, figured we'd have to do things the hard way. Why don't you sit down so we can talk?"_

Glancing up at the older man he closed the door quietly behind him and stood in front of it, still refusing to come face to face with him. _"I don't need to sit and we don't need to talk" _his voice was low, menacing.

_"Look, the word on the street is that the family are back in business and they're looking for you. One of the sons happened to be holidaying in Miami and guess whose face they saw on the evening news?"_

He winced at the words; he had changed his name and identity. He'd started a new life here; there should have been no way that they could have made the connection. _"What are you expecting me to do, run away again?"_

The older man brushed lint from his trousers absent-mindedly as he reclined in Horatio's leather office chair. _"That's up to you but if I were you, I'd think about moving on whilst you still have the chance"_

_"My life is here and so is my family" _His firs thoughts were of Kyle, what if the family made the connection and realised he had a son. He knew they would use Kyle to draw him out and in to a trap.

_"Maybe you should think about their safety. You wouldn't want anything to happen to them" _the other man responded, almost nonchalantly.

_"Don't you dare use them against me!" _he shouted, losing his temper. _"Stay away from me and my family, I'll deal with this myself!"_

Getting up to leave, the other man glanced back at the furious red head, _"Make sure you do. I can only protect you so much"_

_"Get out!" _Horatio growled as his hands shook with fury.

Calleigh looked on in surprise as she saw the balding, middle-aged man leave Horatio's office. She had heard her boss's raised voice from down the corridor, poking her head around his door when the coast was clear she looked at him with concern. _"Everything ok, Horatio? I heard shouting"_

Standing with his back to her he attempted to get a hold of his emotions, _"I'm fine, Calleigh. Just another suit demanding we jump through hoops for them" _Turning towards her he gave her a small smile, walked over and sat behind his desk. _"Is there something I can do for you?"_

She frowned as she looked at him, it was unlike Horatio to lose his temper at the lab let alone raise his voice to someone. Whoever it was must have really got under his skin. _"I was just coming to tell you that Dr Loman has retrieved the bullet from the body, I'm just on my way to the gun lab to do my analysis on it"_

Fiddling with some sheets of paper on his desk he kept his head down, _"Be sure to keep me informed, Calleigh"_

She was even more worried now; his unusual demeanour was setting alarm bells ringing in her head. _"Horatio, if something was wrong you would tell me. Right?"_

Glancing up at her he hoped that she would go back to her lab and leave him alone. _"Yes. I need the analysis done on that bullet ASAP, Miss Duquesne"_

Hearing his cold tone she felt as if she had been slapped in the face. Willing herself not to cry she turned around and headed towards the door. _"You'll have the results as soon as I know, Lieutenant" s_he almost spat the last word out as she slammed the door shut behind her.

He winced as the door wobbled on its hinges, he knew he had hurt her and he felt terrible for doing it but keeping them all in the dark was the only way he knew to keep them all safe.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to all of you who have reviewed, followed or favourited this story so far. Here's the next part:**

He sat in his office, staring at the computer. There were a pile of reports sitting on his desk that he knew needed signing off but each time he tried to turn his attention to them he soon caught himself brooding over his argument with Calleigh. _"It wasn't an argument" _he told himself as he scowled at his computer, _"You were a bastard to her, go and apologise"_

The knock on his door took him by surprise; his heart skipped a beat at the thought that it could be Calleigh standing on the other side. _"Come in" _he said as he straightened the collar of his shirt. His face fell when he saw Eric Delko standing in the doorway.

_"Hey, H. Sorry to disturb you but I thought you'd want to know the canvass of the local neighbourhood turned up nothing"_

He sighed as he fiddled with the files on his desk, _"Ok Eric, thanks. We knew it would be a longshot anyway"_

_"Tom says he's nearly done on the autopsy. Are you gonna go down to the morgue or should I?"_

Pulling his game face on he stood from his desk and straightened his jacket, _"No, I'll go. I need you back on the Ramirez case anyway"_

They had known each other for a long time, brothers in law for years and close friends for even longer. Horatio had taught his young charge well, as Eric could clearly see something was not right. _"H, you ok? You seem kind of distracted lately, is there something I should know?"_

Plastering what he hoped would be a reassuring smile on his face he walked closer to Eric and placed a hand on his shoulder. _"Everything is fine, brother. Thank you for your concern"_

Eric frowned, clearly not at ease with the other man's explanation. _"If there was something wrong you'd tell me, right?"_

_"Of course I would" _he smiled as walked past Eric and out into the corridor, it didn't take a CSI to see that the smile failed to reach his eyes.

* * *

"_Ah Horatio, so nice of you to join us" _Tom Loman remarked as he pulled the latex gloves from his hands and threw them in the bin.

_"What have you got for me, Doctor?" _he responded as he walked closer to the corpse lying on the autopsy table. Standing side on in his usual stance he fiddled with arms of his sunglasses.

_"As I surmised at the scene, 9mm to the upper chest. Bullet tore through his heart, hit one of the intercostal ribs and ricocheted back towards the lungs. The young man didn't stand a chance; he was likely dead in minutes"_

_"Calleigh has the bullet?" _It seemed a pointless question to ask, he already knew she was in possession of it.

_"She came and collected quite some time ago. She should have her analysis for you soon"_

He dreaded having to go to her lab; he had no idea what to say to make up for his earlier indiscretion. He hadn't meant to take it out on her but the endless phone calls and the visitor in his office this morning had gotten under his skin and irritated him. Now Eric and Calleigh were asking questions that he couldn't answer, the less they knew the safer they would be. His thoughts turned back to the present case, _"Any luck with an ID?"_

Tom handed him the personal effects that were found with the body, _"Angel Lopez, 22 years old according to his driver's license. I've taken fingerprints and DNA swabs, hopefully something will pop up on him" _The doctor narrowed his gaze at the other man, noticing his fidgeting. _"I can get these run up to the lab if there is somewhere you need to be, Lieutenant"_

_"Do that please, Dr Loman" _he replied as he walked from the morgue, his mind clearly elsewhere. The medical examiner shrugged his shoulders and returned to his work, brushing off the other man's behaviour as a quirk of his personality.

* * *

The walk to Calleigh's lab was a long one, he silently prayed that his phone would chirp and he would be called away to another crime scene before he had a chance to reach her. He chided himself for being cowardly, _"Just go in there and apologise you stupid old fool" _

He stood in the doorway for what seemed like an eternity. _"You going to stand there all day or come in?" _she asked in that melodic southern drawl of hers, he could not mistake the cold tone in her voice.

_"Calleigh, Dr Loman said you have the results in the bullet he retrieved?" _he asked as he walked awkwardly in to the room, deliberately avoiding her gaze.

She looked up from the microscope she was bent over and narrowed her eyes at him, _"Judging by the striations we're looking at a 9mm semi-automatic pistol. The bullet Tom pulled from the body is a 9x23mm Winchester. Popular with gang bangers due to the easy reload"_

_"Good work Calleigh. I take it you'll be able to match the bullet to the murder weapon?" _He groaned at himself, what a stupid question. Of course she would, she was his bullet girl.

_"Find me the gun and I'll match it to your bullet" _was her blunt reply, still clearly hurt by their earlier confrontation. He stood by the door once more, fiddling with his sunglasses. He looked as if he were about to say something but he remained silent. _"Was there something else you wanted?"_

He flinched at her words, feeling them cut into him like razor blades. _"Calleigh" _he began before struggling to finish his sentence, _"About earlier…."_

She cut him off before he had the chance to speak, _"You made your point quite clearly. What you do outside the lab is no business of mine" _She turned her back to him before the tears spilled from her eyes.

_"Calleigh" _he began again, appealing to her to hear him out. He growled as his cell phone rang, sighing he pulled it out and answered it. _"Caine" _he ground out as he continued to watch Calleigh from the corner of his eye.

_"Sorry H, its Eric. Is this a bad time?"_

He could hear the uncertainty in the younger man's voice and took a deep breath as he attempted to put a lid on his growing frustration. _"No, it's fine. What can I do for you?"_

_"We've had contact from a possible witness. Says he wants to talk about the Lopez shooting. Figured you'd wanna be there when he pay him a visit"_

_"Talk about bad timing" _he thought as he told Eric he would meet him at his Hummer in ten minutes. He walked over to Calleigh and placed a hand on her shoulder, he pulled it away as if he had been burnt when she flinched away from the contact. _"Calleigh, please. We need to talk, come and see me in my office when I get back"_

Keeping her back to him she willed her voice to remain steady, _"Go and interview your witness. I'll think about it"_

_"Calleigh"_ he implored her, _"Please, give me a chance to apologise and explain" _He sighed defeated as she bent over the microscope once more, clearly signalling that the conversation was over.

* * *

The journey back to the neighbourhood of the Lopez crime scene was made in virtual silence; Eric kept sneaking glances at his boss. He could see that the man was brooding over something, he could tell by the way Horatio stared out of the passenger window that he was deep in thought. Years of experience had taught Eric never to disturb his brother in law when he was in this kind of mood, prodding him to open up and talk would likely lead to him getting his head bitten off. Horatio Caine was not a man prone to histrionics; he was rather the kind of man who would sit and brood on an issue rather than scream and shout about it. He would take the anger and pain and internalise it, giving off the image to the outside world that everything was fine. Eric knew him better than that.

_"We're here" _Eric said as he put the Hummer into park, _"3315 Cedar Avenue"_

Horatio nodded and got out of the vehicle, putting his sunglasses on before taking in the scene with his hands on his hips. Taking a look at the broken wire fencing and rusting swing in the front garden he got the distinct impression that this was not a well-to-do area. _"Did we get a name for our witness?"_

_"No, he just said to meet him at this address"_

_"Let's be cautious, Eric" _he said as he popped his gun holster open and placed his right hand on his weapon. _"This could be a trap"_

_"Got it, boss" _the younger man replied as he followed Horatio up the path and towards the house.

Knocking on the door Horatio called out, _"MDPD. Open the door please" _He looked at Eric as they both heard the barking of what sounded like a rather angry and vicious dog. It took a second knock but eventually the sound of chains being removed could be heard from the other side of the door.

A young Hispanic boy, no more than sixteen years old stood in the doorway. _"Maybe you should have put your sirens on too, then the whole neighbourhood would have heard you" _He looked terrified as his eyes darted from Horatio and Eric to the street outside, _"If I get seen talking to you I'm a dead man" _

_"Let us in son and we can talk in private" _Opening the door wider he let them in before quickly shutting it behind them, _"What's your name, son?" _Horatio asked as he re-holstered his gun.

_"Pablo" _the young boy answered as he led them to a dingy living area, the room had not seen a duster or hoover for months. Cans and bottles of beer littered the floor, the fearsome dog that had barked at them earlier was happily munching on the leftover takeaway pizza lying on the floor.

_"What can you tell us about the shooting, Pablo?" _Horatio asked as he tried to find a clean space to sit down, glancing around the room he thought better of it.

Pablo opened his mouth to speak when he was stopped by an angry voice coming from the kitchen. _"Pablo, you idiot! What did you do?"_

_"Shit, it's my brother. You have to leave now!" _the young boy said clearly in a panic as he tried to push Horatio and Eric from the room. _"Please go, before he sees you!"_

It was not in Horatio Caine's nature to leave the young man in such a dangerous situation, walking slowly into the hallway he signalled for Eric to follow him. He crept towards the kitchen, placing his hand on his gun as he walked, _"We don't want any trouble here, we just came to talk to Pablo" _he tried to reason with the stranger.

As they walked in to the room they saw Pablo's elder brother standing by the back door with a large kitchen knife in his hands. One look at the clothes and the tattoo on the man's neck told them that he was a member of the local gang. _"Put the knife down, son. No one needs to get hurt"_

Fear and panic overtook the young gang member as Horatio inched closer to him, _"Stay back pig! Don't make me use this on you" _he warned as he waved the knife in front of him.

_"You're not going to do that. Pablo needs you, you won't be that much use to him if you're in jail" _Horatio responded as he took his hand away from his gun, signalling that he was not a threat. _"Put the knife down and we can talk about it"_

It seemed as if Horatio's words were getting through to the gang banger as the hand holding the knife began to shake. Just as the young man began lowering the knife a brick came flying through the kitchen window, shattering the glass and sending it flying everywhere. Eric drew his gun as Horatio kept his attention on the man in front of him; panic surged through the young man as Horatio attempted to remove the knife from his hand. Swinging his head forwards he made contact with the lieutenant's face with sickening force. He ran from the house as Horatio fell to the floor, hitting his head on the corner of the table on the way down.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for leaving it on a cliffhanger, here's the next part:**

_"H!" _Eric shouted as he watched the young man run down the back yard, hop over a fence and out of sight. _"Are you alright man?"_

Groaning, he attempted to raise his hand to his bloody nose before answering. _"I'm fine, Eric. Go and check on the boy" _Eric stood over him for a few moments, unsure as to whether to stay with his fallen friend or go and check on their witness. Finally, Eric nodded and walked back towards the living area.

He came back a few minutes later to find Horatio sitting on the kitchen floor with his back leaning against a leg of the dining table, holding his handkerchief to his face. _"He's gone, H. Must have bolted when his brother did" _He crouched down to Horatio so their faces were level. _"Man, you look a mess. Let me take you to the hospital to get checked out"_

Annoyed at the younger man's hovering he waved away his concern with his free hand, _"It's fine. Just take me back to the lab so I can get cleaned up. We need to find Pablo and his brother before the gang do" _Eric looked at him uncertainly, _"Eric, don't make me order you to do it" _he growled as the throbbing pain in his head intensified.

_"H, you need to get checked out. Please" _he implored his friend as he reached out a hand to help him up.

_"I told you, I'm fine. Let's get back to the lab" _Eric didn't miss the way Horatio swayed on his feet as he stood, he held out a hand to steady him but retracted it when he saw the look on his face.

By the time they got back to the lab Horatio's nose had nearly stopped bleeding, he gingerly touched it to assess the damage. _"You've probably broken it, let me take you to the hospital" _Eric tried again. He closed is mouth when he saw the fearsome glare that the red head was giving him, even with two black eyes beginning to form he was still a force to be reckoned with.

Stalking from the car and into the crime lab, Horatio made his way to the locker room to retrieve a fresh shirt. He looked down at the one he was wearing and grimaced at the blood stains that had ruined his expensive Italian tailoring. Walking to the bathroom he took a look at his reflection in the mirror and winced, dried blood smeared the bottom half of his face and covered his shirt, his bottom lip was split and started bleeding sluggishly when he moved his mouth. Raising his hands to his face he was satisfied that his jaw had come through the incident relatively unscathed, touching his nose he hissed in pain as it protested at the movement. Gazing further up he could see two black eyes starting to form, he certainly wasn't going to look pretty for a day or two but apart from that he thought nothing of his injuries. Telling himself that the incessant pounding in his head was a by-product of the head-butt and nothing more.

Grabbing some paper towels he wetted them in the sink and went about wiping the dried blood from his face, his nose had stopped bleeding but it still looked wonky and swollen. Eric was probably right, it looked like he had broken his nose but his pride prevented him from accepting the other man's help. He looked down at his blood stained shirt and sighed, shrugging his jacket from his shoulders he ignored the wave of dizziness that came over him, telling himself that it was most likely caused by the blood loss from his nose. He walked over to his locker as he unbuttoned his shirt and groaned deeply when his stomach churned; bolting to the nearest lavatory his stomach emptied itself of its contents. He sat for a while, crouched down by the toilet as his vision swam. _"Maybe Eric was right" _he thought to himself as he grimaced at the awful aftertaste left in his mouth from the vomiting. Pulling the chain he managed to climb to his feet and out of the stall before he walked into Ryan.

The younger man took one look at his boss, shirt open and hair mussed he looked nothing like the clean-cut and smartly dressed lieutenant that they had all become so accustomed to. _"Jeez, H. What happened to you?" _he asked the concern for his friend evident in his voice.

_"Run in with a suspect, nothing to worry about" _he replied as he began fiddling with his shirt with shaky hands, trying to stop his vision from swimming.

Ryan walked closer to him and held out a hand to steady Horatio after seeing him sway slightly on his feet. _"You need to get checked out at the hospital, let me take you"_

_"I'm fine, Mr Wolfe. Now if you don't mind I have things to do" _The hovering of his colleagues was starting to irritate him, grabbing a clean shirt, buttoning and tucking it into his pants haphazardly he slammed his locker shut and left the room.

Pulling his sunglasses from his pockets he slid them back on to his face, he knew he looked foolish walking down the darkened corridors in his shades but at least it would stop people looking at him and asking him stupid questions. Random colleagues walked past him and winced at the sight of his battered face, finally he made it to his office, closing the door he sat down heavily on his chair. He threw the sunglasses on the table and rested his head in his hands; the pounding in his head was getting louder and more painful with each minute that passed. His vision continued to swim as he tried vainly to focus on something, anything on his desk. With a shaky hand he reached into the top draw of his desk and grasped wildly for the bottle of painkillers that he knew were in there. After a couple of failed attempts his hand touched the bottle, he took it out and placed it on the desk, after managing to take the safety cap off he shook two pills out on to his hand. The pain in his head intensified as he swallowed them back with the remnants of a cold cup of coffee from earlier.

Lying back in his chair he allowed his head to fall back against it and winced as it made contact with the soft leather. Closing his eyes he told himself that he would sit and rest for only a moment, until the dizziness and nausea had passed. He woke with a shock some time later when he heard a knock on his door, he opened his eyes with some difficulty and attempted to sit up straighter in his chair as he answered, _"Come in"_

Pain lanced through his skull as he looked up at his visitor, the image was blurry at best but the long, flowing blonde hair was unmistakable. _"Calleigh, thank you for coming" _he said in a shaky voice as he shuffled further up in his chair.

She took one look at him and gasped, _"My God! What happened to you?" s_he asked as she walked up to his desk and sat down.

He waved her concern away and instantly regretted it as the room began to turn on its side; he grabbed the edge of the desk as he groaned. _"It's nothing, just had a little incident with a witness. That's all"_

Her tone softened as she looked at him in concern, _"Horatio, you don't look so well. Let me take you to get checked out"_

As awful as he felt he could not help the wave of shame that came over him, it was bad enough that Eric and Ryan were trying to nursemaid him. He really didn't need his beautiful temptress cooing at him like some helpless child. _"Calleigh, I told you I'm fine" _he growled in a menacing tone as the throbbing pain in his head turned itself up a notch.

Anger surged through her at his words, _"Fine, I came up here to discuss what happened earlier but I can see that you've still got your head firmly stuck up your ass!"_

She got up from the chair quickly; he bolted from his as he tried to catch her before she reached the door. _"Calleigh, please wait" _he implored her as he held his arm out towards her.

She kept her back to him, her hand on the door. She turned round when she heard him groan and crash to the ground heavily. _"Horatio!" _she called out as she crouched next to him on the floor.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for leaving it on another cliffhanger, I'm doing it deliberately in an effort to crank up the tension a bit...**

_"Horatio, talk to me. Are you alright?" _Calleigh reached a shaky hand out to his neck and felt for his pulse, it was fast and erratic. It was then that she noticed the blood seeping from his ear; pulling out her phone she dialled 911. She shook his shoulder gently, trying to raise a response from him. _"Horatio, can you hear me? I need you to open your eyes for me" _She got no response; she took her phone out again and rang the M.E her eyes all the while never leaving him.

Several minutes later Tom Loman bustled into the room with Eric not far behind him, _"I came as soon as I could, Calleigh. What happened to him?" _Leaning over he gently rolled Horatio on to his back and bent down to listen for his breathing, he noticed the blood coming from his nose and ears.

Taking a deep breath she brushed the hair back from her face as she leant back on her knees giving Tom more room to work. _"I don't know, he said he had an altercation with a witness. I tried to get him to go to hospital but we ended up arguing. Next thing I know he's collapsed on the floor"_

Nodding his head as he felt around Horatio's skull he probed Calleigh deeper, _"Well he sustained a head injury, that much is clear. Do we know if he lost consciousness when the injury was sustained?"_

_"I've got no idea. Eric, did you see anything?"_

He stood in the doorway in a state of shock, Horatio had looked fine a couple of hours ago. Dazed and a bit irritable but otherwise his normal self, he kicked himself for listening to the other man when he said he was fine. It was clear now that he wasn't. _"The witness's older brother" _he tried to explain, _"He had a knife, and H was talking him into dropping it when a brick smashed the window. The guy head-butted H and made a run for it"_

_"How long ago was this?" _Tom asked, his attention still firmly on the man lying prone on the floor.

_"A couple of hours maybe. He seemed fine after it happened, a bit grouchy but that's not unusual these days" _he looked at Calleigh pointedly.

Tom lifted Horatio's head slightly and used his fingers to probe the back of his skull; he grimaced when he found what he was looking for. Gently placing Horatio's head back down in the ground he lifted his hands for Eric and Calleigh to see the blood that was on them. _"I hope that bus is on its way, we're going to need it" _Ignoring the gasps of the two CSI's he carefully lifted Horatio's eyelids in turn and frowned at what he found, the pupils were dilated and moving sluggishly as they attempted to adjust to the artificial light in the room. Pinching his earlobe produced no response either.

_"Tom, is he going to be ok?" _Calleigh asked as her voice wavered.

Sighing deeply before answering he told them, _"He's got a serious head injury, looks like he cracked the back of his head on something. My best guess is a depressed skull fracture and judging by the blood and fluid coming from his ears I would say there's at least some swelling on the brain"_

There was barely time for Tom's words to register before two paramedics came running up the corridor and into the room. Placing their bags down they tried talking to Horatio in an effort to gain a response but he remained silent and unmoving. Tom apprised them of the situation as they placed a neck brace to support his head and spine then ran IV's into both arms. Calleigh looked on in shock as they quickly transferred him to a stretcher and began carrying him briskly from the room. _"Anyone coming with him?" _one of the paramedics asked.

_"I will" _Calleigh responded as she tried to compose herself. _"Now is not the time to fall apart" s_he told herself as she jogged to catch up with the paramedics.

Standing back she watched them load the stretcher into the back of the ambulance and was concerned at the frantic way the paramedics were working on Horatio. She climbed in as instructed and sat on the opposite side as a paramedic stood over him whilst the other got in the front and drove quickly, sirens blaring. _"He's going to be ok, isn't he?"_

The paramedic stopped what he was doing and glanced at Calleigh quickly before placing leads on Horatio's bare chest, _"Your friend has a serious head injury, we need to get him to Dade Memorial as soon as possible" _Feeling guilty for upsetting his passenger the paramedic tried to reassure her, _"We'll do all we can for him, the hospital we're taking him to has some of the best neurosurgeons in the country"_

The words were meant to be comforting but they only served to upset her even more, he was fine when she saw him this morning, how could things have gone downhill so quickly? It hit her suddenly, if he died she would never be able to apologise for their stupid argument this morning. It seemed so pointless now; pride and ego had come between the both of them. With more confidence than she felt she reached over and grabbed the hand closest to her, willing him to hold on until they got to the hospital. His hand felt cold and limp in hers, when she squeezed it she got no response. She closed her eyes and prayed that he would come through this, suddenly his hand tensed.

Looking up she could see his whole body had tensed too; the heart monitor began to squeal as Horatio's body stiffened and then started jerking uncontrollably. She lost her footing as the paramedic roughly moved her out of the way, _"Sorry, ma'am. I need room to work" _he said, his back to her as he frantically worked on stabilising the man on the stretcher.

It seemed like an eternity but the seizure rode its course as Horatio lay still on the stretcher once more, her heart sank when she saw the grey tinge to his complexion. Only the erratic beeping from the monitors gave any indication that the man lying prone in the ambulance was alive. Tears sprang to her eyes when she watched the paramedic deftly insert a breathing tube into Horatio's throat. Seeing her distress he smiled at her gently, _"You wanna help?" _he asked, she gave a weak nod of her head in response. _"Every five seconds squeeze this bag; it'll help your friend breathe"_

It took a lot of effort to keep her hand steady; she concentrated on following the paramedic's instructions, squeezing the bag rhythmically with one hand whilst brushing the sweat soaked hair from his forehead. The pale hue to his skin made the bruising under his eyes seem even more vivid as he lay deathly still on the stretcher.

As soon as the ambulance pulled up the back doors were thrown open and the stretcher quickly removed. Doctors and nurses began swarming around Horatio as they ran into the ER with him. It was only then that the shock of what had happened hit her, air rushed from her lungs as she sat down heavily on the step of the ambulance as the tears began to flow with a vengeance.

* * *

Sitting down heavily on a hard plastic chair Calleigh realised she had no idea how she had got here. The last few hours had passed in a blur, looking up she saw Eric walking towards her. He gave her a small, reassuring smile and sat in the chair next to her, _"Any news yet?"_

She shook her head sadly as she felt the tears threatening to fall, _"Nothing. They took him and I haven't seen him since" _She couldn't face looking at him right now.

Placing a hand on her leg he gave it a reassuring squeeze, _"No news is good news, it means he's hanging on" _he winced at his own words.

_"Eric, he didn't look good. What if he doesn't make it?"_

_"He will, he's made of tough stuff" _Eric replied as he leant back in his chair, keeping Calleigh company as they waited for news on their fallen friend.

Hours passed before a haggard-looking doctor in blue scrubs came to meet them, pulling the surgical hat from his head the sweat-soaked hair gave an indication of the effort that had gone in to working on Horatio. _"Are you here for Mr Caine?" _he asked as he stood in front of them.

Calleigh opened her mouth to speak but found that no words would come out. Eric stepped in, _"Yes we are, how is he?"_

Sighing, the doctor sat himself down on a chair opposite them and regarding both of them in turn. _"It's not good I'm afraid"_


	5. Chapter 5

**Here's the next part for you:**

Eric ran a worried hand over his head, _"Tell us what's wrong, doctor"_

Looking at each of them in turn he took a deep breath before he spoke, _"When Mr Caine was brought in he had a GCS of 1, we immediately took him for a CT scan and an MRI. The results showed a depressed skull fracture on the back of the head and also some localised bleeding and swelling around the fracture site. We took Mr Caine straight into surgery and performed a craniotomy to gain access to the injured area, we eventually managed to stem the bleeding and repair the fracture"_

_"So he'll be ok then?" _Eric pressed, wanting answers.

The doctor hesitated, unsure of how to continue without unduly upsetting the two people sitting across from him. _"We've managed to stop the bleeding but there is a significant amount of swelling to the brain. We've had to deeply sedate your friend and place him on a ventilator to give his body every chance to recover"_

_"But he'll recover, won't he?" _Eric asked insistently, wishing the doctor would give him some positive news.

_"Until the swelling has gone down there is no way to accurately gauge if there will be any significant or permanent damage to his brain. He'll be kept in an artificial coma until the pressure has lessened, after that we'll reduce the sedatives and hope he regains consciousness"_

_"Hope? What do you mean hope?" _Eric could feel his temper start to get the better of him.

_"As I said, until the swelling has been reduced I'm unable to give you any clear answers. I'm sorry" _Picking up the chart by his side the doctor stood, leaving Calleigh and Eric to process the news.

Neither of them moved for some time, both sat in shock trying to understand the severity of the situation. _"Eric, oh my God. Eric!" _Calleigh began to weep as she fell on to Eric's shoulder.

He rubbed soothing circles on her arm as he tried to comfort her, he felt tears threatening to fall from his own eyes but with a deep breath he held them back. Horatio needed him to be strong for all of them. He held her as her tears slowly died out; she lay against him heavily as exhaustion overtook her. _"We'll go up to the ICU, see if we can sit with him for a while"_

She lifted her head, wiped at her face and nodded. Together they walked down the nondescript hallways of Dade Memorial Hospital until they reached the Intensive Care Unit. Eric walked over to a nurse sitting behind the main desk and asked for Horatio's room number.

_"Room 12" _she replied before eyeing the pair of them, _"Only one visitor at a time though"_

Calleigh dreaded reaching his room, he looked awful in the ambulance and she doubted he would look much better now. Eric gave her a quick hug before guiding her gently into the room where her boss lay.

She gasped when she saw him, he looked worse than she had imagined. He was lying prone on the bed, connected to a ventilator with tubes and wires running from most portions of his exposed chest. His head was swathed with thick bandages and his eyes were heavily swollen. If it wasn't for the steady rise and fall of his chest she would have thought he was dead. She walked over to the side of the bed on decidedly wobbly legs, taking his cold and limp hand in hers she spoke softly to him. _"Horatio, its Calleigh. I don't know if you can hear me but I want you to know that Eric and I are right here with you" _She squeezed his hand and frowned when he did not respond, the only noises from the room were the whirring and whooshing noises of the machines that we helping to keep her beloved red head stable.

She pulled up a chair and sat beside his bed, chatting about random topics until she found she had run out of things to say. Suddenly the silence in the room became more than she could bear, getting quickly to her feet she gave his hand one final squeeze as she bolted from the room. Eric did not have to time to stop her before she ran towards the nearest exit.

He walked in to the room, unprepared for the sight that greeted him. Only hours ago that morning Horatio had stood next to him at the crime scene, now he was lying helpless in a hospital bed, desperately clinging on to life. _"He's here because of you, Delko" _he berated himself, if only he had followed his gut then his friend wouldn't be lying here right now. He knew better than anyone how tricky head injuries could be and yet he let himself be fooled by Horatio's bravado and insistence that he was alright. Sitting down next to his brother in law he picked up the limp hand and held it in both of his, only now allowing the tears to fall freely from his face.

* * *

Feeling better for the fresh air Calleigh composed herself before re-entering the hospital, she had got as far as the lobby when her cell phone rang. _"Calleigh Duquesne"_

_"Thank God I got through to you, how is Horatio? Is he ok?" _Natalia asked frantically.

_"No it's not good news. He's in a coma" _Calleigh heard the other woman gasp and almost drop the phone. _"The doctors won't give us any straight answers but it's not looking too good at the moment"_

_"Oh, Calleigh. Is there anything we can do?"_

_"Not really, Eric and I are here. Is everything ok at the lab?" _It was the last thing she wanted to concentrate on right now but she had to ask.

_"Its chaos, the rumour mill is going into overdrive with the news of what happened. Ryan, Walter and I are trying to keep the lab in some sort of order"_

_"Good, either Eric or I will be back in the morning to help out"_

_"Sure, give our best to Horatio and tell him we're thinking of him"_

Saying goodbye she closed her phone, walking back to the ICU with a heavy heart. When she reached the waiting area she was surprised to see Eric sitting on one of the chairs outside Horatio's room. _"Eric is something wrong?" s_he asked worriedly.

He looked up at her tiredly, _"Nurse asked me to leave whilst she 'attended' to him" _he gave her a small smile, _"I needed a break anyway. How are you holding up?"_

_"Better" s_he answered him, even though it was a lie. _"I just needed to get some fresh air and to clear my head a little" _She sat down next to Eric, _"Natalia called, she says the team send their love"_

_"He's gonna need a lot more than love to get through this, Calleigh" _Neither of them spoke, knowing he was right.

* * *

They fell into a regular pattern over the next several days, members of the team taking it in turns to sit with their fallen colleague. Each day Horatio was taken for MRI and CT scans to assess the level of swelling on his brain, the monitors continued to beep erratically as he remained heavily sedated. The doctors and nurses that attended to him during the day gave small smiles or nods of encouragement as the team looked at them questioningly.

Calleigh was sitting holding Horatio's hand on the sixth day when a doctor entered the room, _"We did another set of scans on your friend this morning" _he began in a bright tone, _"The swelling has reduced significantly, we'll be reducing the sedatives this afternoon"_

She felt hope surge through her but willed herself not to get too excited, _"When will he be conscious?"_

_"I wouldn't expect him to start responding to any sort of stimuli for at least a few days" _The doctor lowered his eyes as he continued, _"I have to make you aware that there may be a chance that he won't wake at all. At the moment we have no way of knowing"_

Her heart sank, this was Horatio, he had to regain consciousness there was simply no other option.

Eric and Calleigh took it in turns to sit by Horatio's bedside whilst the other returned to the lab and act in the capacity of temporary leader in their boss's absence. Two days after the sedatives had been reduced Horatio began to show signs of waking, his eyebrows twitched and his hands began to move at irregular intervals. Calleigh's heart leapt as a small groaning noise escaped from his mouth. She would see his eyes flicker open ever so slightly before closing again.

* * *

Eric had dozed off in the chair beside Horatio's bed when he was jolted from his slumber by the movement of the other man's hand. _"H, its Eric. Can you hear me?" _He shook the red head's shoulder gently, trying to get a response. Horatio groaned deeply around the breathing tube as his eyes flickered open.

After trying and failing several times he eventually got his eyes to stay open, everything was blurry and the voice he heard was muffled. He raised a shaky hand and was alarmed to see the blurry outline of the wires and tubes running in and out of his chest and arms. Still dazed and very confused he began to panic as he felt the choking presence of the tube in his throat. Eric hit the alarm button as hard as he could as a doctor and two nurses ran in to the room.

Placing a hand on the agitated man's chest the doctor tried to calm him, _"Mr Caine, please lie still" _His words seemed to have no effect as Horatio continued to push against the hands holding him down. The doctor caught his hand as it made a move towards the breathing tube, _"I'll take it out but you need to lie still, understand?" _Horatio groaned at the pain in his head as he moved it. _"Ok on three I want you to breathe out and cough as hard as you can. One, two, three"_

He gagged and coughed as the doctor pulled the tube from his throat; he raised a shaky hand to his eyes and tried to rub them so he could see clearly. His focus remained blurry; all he could see were the outlines of people standing over him. He opened his mouth to speak but found he couldn't, a vague figure handed him a cup of water and guided the straw to his mouth. He took a couple of mouthfuls before licking his dry lips and trying again. _"Where…where am I?" _he croaked out.

The doctor leaned over him and began shining a penlight in his eyes, assessing the response of his pupils. Clicking the light off, he answered his patient, _"You're in Miami Dade Memorial Hospital, Mr Caine"_

His eyes widened in shock, it took him a couple of attempts to form the words but finally he spoke, his voice shaking. _"Why am I in Miami and who the hell is Mr Caine?"_


	6. Chapter 6

**Here's the next part, still more questions than answers...**

Eric looked at the doctor in concern, frowning the doctor asked Horatio, _"Can you tell me what year it is please?" _as he began scribbling on the chart he had collected from the end of the bed.

Everything was still blurry and vague, the pounding in his head increasing as he tried to answer the question. _"1993" _he slurred slowly.

The doctor glanced at Eric as he heard his sharp intake of breath and then continued with his questions, _"Who is the president of the United States of America?"_

Horatio raised a shaky hand to his face and attempted to rub it, wincing when his hand came in contact with his broken nose. _"Bill Clinton. What's with the twenty questions? Where's Andy?" _

The doctor looked up from the chart and moved closer to the man on the bed, _"Mr Caine, we need to run some more tests. An orderly will be here soon to take you for another CT scan"_

The throbbing pain in his head did nothing to soothe his anger as he growled, _"Stop calling me Mr Caine!"_

Seeing the red head's heart rate and blood pressure increase the doctor attempted to calm him, _"Sir, you've got a serious head injury. I need you to try to calm down otherwise we'll be forced to sedate you again"_

The doctor's words had an opposite effect on Horatio as he became increasingly agitated. Confused about what had happened to him and the strangers in his room that he didn't recognise only served to compound his frustration. He saw the vague outline of the doctor's hand reaching for his arm but was powerless to stop him injecting the sedative into his IV line. It took only a few minutes for the powerful narcotic to take effect, his eyes grew heavy until moments later the darkness consumed him.

Eric remained rooted to the spot as the drama unfolded before his eyes, the man who had regained consciousness was not the man he knew and had grown to love. Panic overcame him when he heard Horatio's answers to the doctor's questions, how could he think it was 1993 and who on earth was Andy?

He was disturbed from his thoughts as the doctor cleared his throat and guided him from the room, _"Mr Delko, I have grave concerns about your friend" _he began in what the doctor hoped was a soothing tone. _"It appears as if the head injury has caused Mr Caine to suffer from amnesia. He has seems to have no recollection of the last 18 years"_

Eric ran a tired hand over his face and head, _"Will it come back?"_

_"It's impossible to tell. There's a chance that when he wakes next he may remember everything but amnesia is a notoriously difficult thing to gauge. It may take months or years for him to regain his memories or perhaps not at all"_

_"What can we do to help him?"_

The doctor took a few moments to consider the question, _"He's clearly confused and agitated. It would help if someone who knew him back then could spend some time with him, it may help jog his memory. How long have you known Mr Caine?"_

Eric's heart sank, _"Not that long. I don't even know where he was back then; I'd have to do some digging"_

The doctor gave him a small smile as he nodded and wrote on the chart in his hands, _"You're friend will be under the effects of the sedation for at least six hours, it may be prudent to spend that time trying to find out all you can about his past"_

With a heavy heart Eric left the hospital and returned to the crime lab, he walked to Calleigh's lab and knocked softly on her door.

_"Eric, come in" s_he said brightly as she carefully laid down the loaded firearm she was holding. _"Shouldn't you be at the hospital with Horatio?" s_he frowned.

_"That's what I came to talk to you about, Calleigh" _he replied as he sat down heavily on a stool.

She felt her heart skip a beat when she saw the strained look on his face, _"What's happened? He's not…..Oh God, Eric…."_

It took a moment for her reaction to register; he shot up from the chair and placed his hands on her shoulders. _"It's nothing like that. I came to tell you that he woke up this morning"_

The relief was evident on her face, _"Oh thank God for that, that's good news. Isn't it?"_

Taking a deep breath to gather his thoughts, Eric tried to explain the situation to her. _"He's awake, but we have a problem"_

She couldn't take it; she had to know what had happened. _"Eric, please. Just tell me"_

_"The doctor says he has amnesia, he can't remember anything from the last 18 years"_

She visibly gasped in shock as Eric's words registered in her brain, her hand shot to cover her open mouth. _"Is it permanent?" _she asked shakily once she had regained a little composure.

_"They're not sure. He got pretty upset this morning and they had to sedate him again. They've told me he probably won't be awake again until this evening"_

_"What do we do, Eric?"_

He frowned as he answered, _"The doctor says finding someone who knew H back in '93 might help to jog his memory. Don't suppose you know how long Frank has known him?" _he asked hopefully.

He face fell, _"Not that long. As far as I know Horatio didn't transfer to MDPD until 1996"_

* * *

Eric and Calleigh spent the next few hours researching as much as they could about the lieutenant's past. After reaching yet another dead end Eric threw his pen down in frustration, _"God, this is pointless! We're going round in circles here"_

_"Eric, we knew Horatio was a very private man. It's not like he talks about his past very much. Have HR got back to you yet with his file?"_

Checking his email his eyes lit up when he found a new message, _"They have now, let's see what it says" _he gave Calleigh a small hopeful smile before returning his attention to the computer screen.

Calleigh watched and waited with baited breath, _"Well, what does it say?"_

Eric threw his head back and growled in frustration, _"There's nothing pre-1996"_

_"What do you mean, nothing? There must be some sort of documentation of his transfer from NYPD"_

He looked at her and shook his head, _"There's nothing, Calleigh. All of the documents from before 1996 have been redacted, they're unreadable"_

Not taking no for an answer Calleigh returned to her computer screen and searched the government and federal employee databases. Each time her search came up bare, _"How can he have no history before 1996, that doesn't make any sense!"_

_"When he woke up this morning he kept telling the doctor that he didn't know who Mr Caine was. I think we need to go and visit him tonight and find out who the hell he thinks he really is"_


	7. Chapter 7

**Here's the next part for you:**

He came back to awareness slowly, gradually opening his eyes as they adjusted to the light in the room. His mouth felt heavy as he tried to open and close it, his tongue thick and furry. He let out a deep groan and attempted to lift his hand to his head, growling as the tubes in his arms caught themselves on the railing oh his bed.

A beautiful Southern voice crooned in his ear, _"Here, let me help you" _as she gently untangled him and placed his arm on his chest, she raised a straw to his mouth as he swallowed. _"Feel better?" _the kind voice asked.

_"Much" _he replied as he turned his head in the general direction of the voice, he could see a fuzzy outline of long blonde hair and ruby red lips framing a beautiful mouth. He raised the hand on his chest to his eyes and tried to rub them, he winced at the pain his movements caused.

_"You're going to be sore and swollen for a while" _the beautiful voice spoke again, _"Lay back and rest"._

He wished he knew who was sitting by his bedside tending to him, as he tried to wrack his muddled brain he found himself unable to match a name to the voice. He hoped that when he woke that the events of this morning would be nothing more than a bad dream, telling himself that he would wake up in his apartment in Queens as if nothing had happened. He couldn't help the bitter disappointment when he opened his eyes to find himself back in the sterile hospital room again. His head hurt and his memory was fuzzy at best, he had no idea how he had ended up in Miami, thousands of miles from where he was supposed to be. He swallowed deeply a couple of times before speaking, _"How did I get here?"._

He saw the vague outline of the Southern beauty lean closer to him, _"You've hit your head. We've been worried sick about you" _she said as he could hear her sniffle.

_"Who's we? Where's Andy?" _he asked, confused by her answer.

_"It's me, Calleigh. Eric and I have been here with you since it happened". _Uncertainty gripped her as she saw his body tense.

_"I don't know any Eric or Calleigh. How did I end up in Miami?" _he asked as he balled his hands in to fists and clenched his jaw.

_"You live here, Horatio. Don't you remember us?" _she mentally kicked herself, of course he didn't remember them. As far as he knew it was still 1993.

_"Why are you calling me Horatio? What kind of stupid name is that?" _he replied, his voice rising in frustration.

_"Horatio, you need to calm down" _she could tell by the urgent beeping noise of the machines that he was becoming increasingly agitated.

_"Stop calling me that! My name is John. John Kelly" _he raised a shaky hand to his head and pulled it away when he touched the thick bandages surrounding his head.

Suddenly it came to her; she pulled a note pad from her purse and began asking Horatio questions. She knew he had done undercover work before and had used an alias, maybe this was who 'John Kelly' was. _"Ok, John. Where do you live?"._

His swollen eyes narrowed at her before he answered, _"Queens, New York"._

She wrote that down, _"And where do you work?"._

_"The 15__th__ precinct in Manhattan, I'm a detective there"._

She nodded her head as she continued to write, _"Can you remember your badge number?"._

It took him a moment or two but he finally answered, _"4726"._

She looked up from her notepad, glad to find that he had calmed down somewhat. She could see his eyes getting heavier as he struggled to stay awake, the short conversation sapping him of what little strength he had. She felt renewed hope when he didn't pull back as she picked his hand up and held it. She ran soothing circles on it with her thumb as his eyes finally drifted shut; she placed a gentle kiss on his hand when she was sure that he was asleep before leaving his room and closing the door quietly behind her.

She met Eric back at the lab, their shift had finished hours ago but both of them were consumed with the need to find out just what was going on with their fallen friend. His hand on her shoulder made her physically jump as he crept up behind her; she smiled as he placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of her.

_"What did you find out?" _he asked as he sat next to her.

_"He's under the impression that he's someone called John Kelly" _she replied as she flipped through her notes from earlier. _"Says he lives in Queens, New York"._

Eric smiled encouragingly at her, _"Well, we know he's from New York. I suppose that's something". _His smile faded when he saw the look on her face. _"What's wrong?"._

Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair in frustration. _"He says he's a detective in Manhattan, the 15__th__ precinct"._

_"That can't be right" _he frowned in confusion, _"I mean, I know he used to be a cop in the NYPD but that would have been under his real name, wouldn't it?"._

Calleigh took a deep breath and returned her attention to her computer, _"Guess there's only one way to find out" _She typed the name 'John Kelly' into the government and federal databases she had tried earlier, after a couple of minutes the computer beeped in response. _"Here we go" s_he said as she clicked on the link, the computer beeped again. Her frown deepened as she read the words on the screen: 'Access denied. You do not have the authority to access this information' the screen returned to the search page, frustrated she typed the name again and received the same message. Turning to Eric she asked, _"What the hell is going on here?"._

_"I've got no idea, Calleigh. But whatever it is, it's big". _Eric pulled his phone from his pocket at dialled a familiar number.

_"Trip" _was the terse answer.

_"Frank, it's Eric Delko. I need to ask you a favour"._

The gruff Texan voice softened a little, _"Sure, Eric. How's Horatio doing?"._

Eric spent the next five minutes explaining the situation to Frank; the detective was silent for a while. _"I see, what is it you need me for?"._

He fidgeted in his seat, not sure how to ask. _"I know you have a few contacts with most of the government agencies. I was hoping you could maybe ask around; see what you can find out. Every lead we have turns into a dead end"._

_"I'll do my best Delko, but I can't promise anything"._

Draining the last of his coffee he turned to look a Calleigh; he placed a hand over hers and smiled at her. _"We'll sort this mess out one way or another". _She nodded her head sadly before her attention returned to her computer screen as it bleeped insistently at her. Accessing her email by clicking the notification she gasped as she read the contents of the message:

**_"If you want to keep your friend safe, stop digging. Consider this your first and last warning"_**

_"Who would write such a thing, Eric?"._

He stared angrily at the message on the screen, _"I don't know. I get the feeling that H was into something deep. We'll get Dave to track the ISP in the morning and see if we can trace the sender"._

_"That's it? That's all we're going to do?" s_he asked incredulously as her mind began to race at the meaning of the message.

_"It's all we can do. We'll go back to see H in the morning and see if we can ask him a few more questions about John Kelly". _He held out a hand to her, _"Come on, I'll walk to your car"._

They left the lab together in silence, unaware of the dark-suited figure watching them from afar.

**A/N: I made up the badge number, as far as I know it was never mentioned in NYPD Blue**


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry for the delay, here is the first of what I hope will be two chapters today:**

Calleigh met Eric in the break room the next morning, smiling her thanks as he passed her a steaming cup of freshly brewed coffee. _"How did you sleep last night?" _he asked as he took a seat opposite her.

She sighed dramatically, _"I didn't. I just kept going over and over it in my mind. What the hell is Horatio mixed up in?"._

_"We'll figure it out" _he tried to reassure her but his words fell short, they sat in silence as each of them contemplated how to proceed. _"I spoke to Dave this morning; he's working on tracking the ISP for that email. If we can narrow down where it's coming from it might give us a fresh lead to work with"._

They looked up as Frank entered the room, not known for his sunny disposition Frank looked more pissed than usual. _"Morning" _he muttered as he poured himself a cup of coffee and took a large swig.

_"Did your contacts come up with anything?"._

_"Sorry, Eric. Nothing so far, my buddy at the FBI tried searching their databases but they got the same answer you did, access denied"._

Calleigh spoke up, _"There's something not right here, why would information on John Kelly be restricted? Was your source able to find a photo, anything?"._

_"Zilch. Sorry, Calleigh. I still have a few more people to tap up but it's not looking good at the moment" _he winced apologetically before draining the last of his coffee and leaving the room.

She returned her attention to Eric, _"I wonder who would have clearance to access those files?" _thinking out loud to herself.

Eric raised an eyebrow, _"H, probably"._

_"Which leaves us back at square one? Arrrrgh!" _she raised her hands in frustration.

Placing his cup down he leaned over the table and closer to Calleigh, _"Dave's going to take a while tracking the ISP down, I've talked to Ryan and Natalia and they have things under control here. Wanna ride with me to the hospital to talk to H?". _She nodded her head and followed him from the room.

* * *

He opened his eyes slowly and winced as they adjusted themselves to the light, he was starting to get annoyed at waking up like this. He turned his head to the side and saw the blurry outline of a window across the room; he wished he could see clearly. He found the lack of vision disorientating and it unnerved him to be stuck here in Miami lying in a hospital bed with no recollection of how he got there. Finding his throat parched he tried to look around the room for a cup of water, finally his eyes found the vague image of a plastic beaker on the tray in front of him. He put his arm out to reach it but became frustrated when he couldn't find it, each time he thought he had it he ended up grabbing at thin air. Not wanting to be defeated he made one last attempt, his hand caught the rim of the beaker before spilling onto the bed. _"Arrrrrrgh!" _he yelled in frustration as he grabbed at the errant plastic cup lying by his side, with all of the strength he could muster he threw it across the room in a fit of anger.

Eric managed to duck his head out of the way in time before the beaker had a chance to hit him. _"Easy man, I come in peace" _he said holding his hands up in mock surrender. Entering the room fully he was followed by Calleigh who walked over to the bed and smiled at its occupant.

_"Hey, how are you feeling this morning?" _she asked as he turned his head in her general direction. She was careful not to use his name for fear of upsetting him.

He narrowed his eyes as he tried to sharpen his focus, try as he might he could not make out a clear image. He recognised the voice as being the same as the sweet Southern belle that visited him yesterday. He grew frustrated that he couldn't see her properly, the blurry shapes and colours had left a lot to his imagination and he was eager to see if his mind's impression of her was accurate. _"I feel like someone's being playing football with my head" _he groused as he tried to wipe away the water stains from his sheets.

Eric walked over and handed Calleigh the cup that had landed on the floor, she poured some water from the jug and handed it to Horatio. _"Drink this" s_he instructed as she held it to his mouth. He took a couple of sips and smiled at her gratefully. _"Eric and I have come to ask you a few more questions, is that ok?". _She sat down in the chair next to the bed and removed the notepad from her purse.

Wincing as pain shot through his head once more he answered, _"Sure, why not. It's not like I've got much else to do at the moment"._

Eric stood in the corner of the room and smiled, the grousing sure sounded like their boss, even if the man didn't know it himself at the moment.

_"We tried searching with the information you gave me, we couldn't get anything to pop up under the name John Kelly"._

He tried to raise his head from the bed and groaned in defeat as the room span before his eyes, _"What do you mean? I told you I'm an NYPD detective at the 15__th__ precinct. You need to speak to Andy"._

_"Who's Andy?" _Eric asked from across the room.

_"He's my partner at the precinct, Andy Sipowicz. He'll tell you that this is all some sort of understanding". _His words began to slur as he grew more tired, he reached out a hand in the direction of where the sweet Southern voice was coming from and pleaded with her desperately, _"Call Andy, tell him I need him" _his voice trailed off as exhaustion overtook the ailing lieutenant, his eyes closed as his bandaged head fell to one side. Taking his hand Calleigh kissed it softly before laying it on his chest; she looked over to Eric with tears in her eyes.

He didn't miss the loving way that Calleigh tended to their friend, he made a mental note to question her about her intentions later in the day but for now he took one final look at Horatio before shaking his head sadly and leaving the room.

* * *

After clearing the tasks left for them by their colleagues Eric and Calleigh met in Horatio's office at mid-afternoon, turning on his computer they typed in the name Horatio had given them and clicked the search button. They looked at each other nervously as the computer scanned several databases, finally the computer beeped to signal its results. They looked at each other for a few moments before Calleigh finally bit the bullet and clicked on the search link results. Her eyes scanned the screen as she read out, _"Sgt Andy Sipowicz, 15__th__ precinct, Manhattan. Says he retired in 2005"._

Eric leaned in closer, _"Is there an address for him?" _he asked as Calleigh scrolled further down the screen.

It took her a moment to find it, _"Says here last known address is in Brooklyn, there's no contact number though" _she frowned in disappointment.

_"Looks like one of us is going to have to fly to New York to track this guy down". _

She looked at him in shock, _"Eric, you can't be serious!"._

_"How else are we going to find out what's going on? Every lead we have comes back to more questions, we need some answers" _he said with more conviction than he actually felt.

_"Who's going then? Me or you?"._

_"I'll go; Horatio seems to have more of a 'connection' to you at the moment"._

She could not mistake the bitter edge to his voice, _"And what is that supposed to mean?" s_he shot back, feeling her anger build.

_"Nothing, I just think you're getting a bit too tactile with him, that's all" _he saw the furious look on her face but continued regardless, _"He doesn't know where or who he is at the moment. I don't think it's a good idea for you to be messing with his head at the moment"._

_"I am not messing with his head!" _Calleigh Duquesne was not a woman to take such attacks on her good nature lying down. _"You have no idea what you're talking about. Why are you men always such arrogant pigs?"._

Realising that he had stepped over the mark he attempted to apologise, _"I'm sorry, Calleigh. I was out of line, I guess I'm just frustrated that we're not getting anywhere at the moment. H could be in danger and we have absolutely no idea what we're up against"._

Her features softened as she took in his words, _"You're right. I guess we're taking it out on the wrong people. Go home and pack, I'll keep an eye on things here and at the hospital". _

He gave her a small nod and left the room but not before telling her, _"Keep your eyes and ears open, Calleigh. We don't know who we're dealing with yet"._

* * *

Later in the afternoon she walked in to the computer lab where she found their resident expert Dave Benton leaning over his workstation. _"I got your text, Dave" _she said holding her cell phone up as if to emphasise her point, _"What have you got for me?"._

He frowned as he closed one screen and opened another; a map with hundreds of lines filled the huge glass display screen. Calleigh looked at him for answers, _"I've spent all day trying to track the ISP down but I'm not getting anywhere. As soon as I've traced it to one source it leads to a dozen others, it seems as though I'm going round in circles. Whoever created this algorithm to hide the original ISP is a professional. I'm not sure I can crack it. I'm sorry, Calleigh"._

Her heart sank once more, _"So we've got no idea where the email came from or who sent it?"._

_"I'm afraid not, the only thing I can tell you is that whoever sent this REALLY knows what they're doing"._

_"Could you keep trying?"._

_"Sure, but if any new cases come in I'll have to put this to the back of the queue"._

_"Thanks, Dave. Could you just keep this between the three of us for now?". _The email she had received yesterday had unnerved her more than she wanted to admit. She felt the best course of action was to keep as few people in the loop as possible; Horatio's safety was of paramount importance. She heeded the warning of the anonymous email, the fewer people who knew the safer Horatio would be.

Calleigh thanked Dave and had reached the door when his workstation beeped at him, _'New email' _it read. He looked at Calleigh as she nodded, the contents of the message flashed up on the giant screen:

**_"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into. It's your head on the line now too; if I were you I'd watch your back. And his."_**


	9. Chapter 9

**As promised, today's second chapter:**

The flight to New York was a long and uncomfortable one, each time Eric closed his eyes his mind came up with a new and even more horrific set of scenarios than the last. He realised that he felt hopelessly out of his depth, at times like this he would turn to his brother in law and friend for guidance. He was on his own this time, Horatio was lying in a hospital in Miami with no idea who he was or how he'd got there. To make matters worse his friend seemed to think he was a man by the name John Kelly and searches into the alias remained fruitless.

Climbing from the back of a yellow taxi cab Eric passed the driver a $20 note and told him to keep the change. Grabbing his bag from the trunk he looked up at the shabby low-rent hotel he had booked a room at, he was only planning to stay a couple of days and it was his on his dime, not the county's. He and Calleigh were carrying out their own unofficial investigation into Horatio's veiled past.

Dumping his bag in the hallway Eric walked over to the window and leant on the frame. New York was a big city, mean and unforgiving. He could see why Horatio had become the immovable force he was, a city like New York either made you or broke you. Even though he was tired he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep until he had got the answers he was looking for, making himself a coffee with the paltry amenities the room offered he swallowed it down quickly and grimaced at the taste of the cheap freeze-dried coffee.

Several hours and phone calls later Eric was sure that he had finally tracked down the mysterious Andy Sipowicz, checking the address on the scrap of paper he raised his hand and knocked on the apartment door. Hearing no movement he knocked again, louder this time.

_"I'm coming, I'm coming. Hold your horses" _a gruff voice responded from behind the door. Hearing the sound of a door chain being rattled Eric took a step back and waited. The door opened, a balding and ageing heavy set man stood there giving Eric a withering look. _"If you're selling something pal, we're not interested" _He gave the man one final look and began closing the door.

Eric held a hand out to stop him, _"I'm not a salesman, I'm looking for Sgt Andy Sipowicz. Is that you?"._

The older man's eyes narrowed, _"Who's asking?" _he answered in a gritty New York accent.

_"Eric Delko, I'm from Miami Dade PD. I was hoping you could answer a few questions for me" _he replied hopefully.

_"A little out of your jurisdiction aren't you? Who you looking for?". _

Eric hesitated, already unnerved by the email they had been sent yesterday. _"Could we talk about this inside?". _He showed the other man his badge and credentials and stood awkwardly in the hallway until the door opened fully to allow him in.

The man sat down on the couch, not offering Eric a seat or a drink. _"Typical New York welcome" _he thought to himself as dragged a dining chair over to the coffee table opposite the grumpy detective. He pulled out a photo and placed it on the coffee table, _"Do you recognise this man?". _He had shown him Horatio's ID photo for his police credentials, it was a few years old but at least he looked recognisable in it, certainly a lot better than he did at the moment.

He watched as the other man picked the photo up and took a long, hard look at it. His eyes narrowed once more as he scowled at Eric, _"You think this is funny? Some sort of joke?"._

Eric could see the anger build in the other man and worked quickly to keep the situation under control. _"No, not at all" _he was pinned by the fearful glare that reminded him so much of Horatio, _"Do you know who this is?" _he tried again.

He threw the picture carelessly back down on the coffee table, _"I did know someone who looked like him, many years ago. Why are you asking?"._

_"Could you tell me his name?"._

_"John Kelly, used to be a cop back at the 15__th__ precinct. He was my partner for a long time"._

Feeling more confident that he was finally getting somewhere, Eric continued with his line of questioning, just as Horatio had taught him. _"When was the last time you saw him?"._

The eyes narrowed at him again, he could see the man's blood pressure rising as the blood rushed up from his neck to his head. _"1994. Last time I saw Kelly we had our guns pointed at each other". _He took another look at the photo, _"This isn't John Kelly" _he said as he held the picture up to Eric.

_"How can you be so sure?"._

He sat back on the couch and crossed his arms over his chest, _"Because John Kelly is dead"._

Whatever answers Eric has been expecting it certainly wasn't that. _"How can you be so sure that he's dead?" _he asked once he had regained his composure.

_"Because they found his remains under the Brooklyn Bridge back in '96"_ theother man replied, his tone cold and unforgiving.

_"What happened?" _Eric asked, not sure that he wanted to know the answer. He had come too far now, he had made real inroads into tracing the identity of John Kelly and he knew he needed much more if he was to keep his friend safe.

Andy Sipowicz narrowed his eyes at the younger man, suspicious about the questions he had come asking. His partner had been gone for years and their friendship had died years before John did. The man sitting in front of him had stirred up memories and emotions that he thought were long forgotten, his friendship with John had ended on a sour note, he felt betrayed by his partner's actions. If he was in so much trouble why hadn't he come to him for help? John Kelly was dead and buried, along with his reputation. This kid in front of him had no idea the can of worms he was about to open. _"Trust me, you don't want to know"._

_"Please, I have to know" _Eric appealed to the older man, _"I need to know everything you do about John Kelly. My friend's life may depend on it"._

He lifted the photo and looked at it again, _"This your friend?"._

_"Yes, he used to be your friend too" _Eric replied, trying to appeal to the other man's good nature. _"He needs your help"._

_"Look, kid. I told you I don't know this guy, he looks like my old partner but that's it. I'm not sure why talking about John is going to help your friend"._

_"Because he's lying in a hospital in Miami asking for you"._

The shock registered on the retired detective's face. John Kelly was dead, he was sure of it, _"No, you've got it wrong. I was there when they found the body, John Kelly is dead". _He repeated the words, trying to make the younger man understand.

Seeing that his line of questioning was getting him nowhere, Eric changed tacks. _"Tell me everything you remember about that day"._

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1996:**

_"Simone, Sipowicz" _Lt Arthur Fancy called across the squad room, _"My office, now"._

The detectives turned to each other, Bobby Simone gave his partner a questioning look. Andy shrugged his shoulders and walked across the room towards the Lieutenant's door. _"Something up?" _the detective asked as his partner shuffled in to the room behind him and closed the door.

_"Uniformed officers responded to a call about a DB under the Brooklyn Bridge this morning. I need you two to go and check it out"._

_"Probably another bum, drunk himself to death" _Andy replied, hoisting his trousers over his large stomach. _"Why are we being called?"._

_"Because it has all the markings of a Malucci hit. I need you to go to the scene; the ME will meet you there. ID the body and see if we can trace this back to those sons of bitches"._

Sipowicz regarded his partner; both of them knew that it would probably turn out to be a wild goose chase and a waste of their time. Neither of them were a fan of paperwork, a trip down to the Bridge seemed preferable to another day spent typing and filing reports.

They knew they had found the right spot as they pulled up in a layby near the Brooklyn Bridge. A number of uniformed officers were in attendance and were in the process of taping the scene off, keeping the intrigued onlookers back. Bobby Simone flashed his badge as a uniformed officer held the tape up for them, _"Hope you two haven't had your lunch yet" _the burly officer smirked.

Walking over to the ME Andy crouched down as far as his protesting knees and large stomach would allow, he winced when he saw the state of the body. _"What happened to the poor chump?" _he asked as he chewed on a piece of gum and pulled his note pad from his jacket pocket.

The ME glanced up from his work, _"The body has been badly burnt, hands and teeth removed. Whoever did this didn't want the body to be identified"._

_"Find any personal effects?" _Bobby asked, disinterestedly. Whoever this was had obviously got himself in too deep with the Malucci brothers and had likely brought his fate on himself, _"One less piece of scrum on the streets" _he thought quietly to himself.

The ME patted the remnants of the corpse's clothes until he found a wallet in the pocket of what was left of the man's trousers. He opened the melted leather and found the remains of a driver's license, his face dropped when he read the name. _"Well, who is it?" _Andy asked impatiently.

_"Ah…um…..I'm not sure how to say this…."._

Losing patience, Andy swiped the wallet from the ME and nearly dropped it when he read the name, _"No" _he whispered.

Bobby saw the crestfallen look on his partner's face, _"Andy, what is it? Do you know this guy?"._

He leant back on his knees, _"You could say that, ID says he's John Kelly"._

He realised that he had no idea what to say to his partner, he had heard all about Kelly and his fall from grace. Even though it was common knowledge that Kelly and Andy had parted on bad terms he knew his partner still cared for the other man deeply. _"Are you sure?" _Bobby asked the ME, not able to quite believe it himself.

_"Height and build is a match, we can't run fingerprints or use dental records to identify the body. We'll have to rely on any personal belongings we find to identify him. I'm sorry, Detective Sipowicz"._

After collecting the personal effects found on the body Andy and Bobby returned to the precinct in uncomfortable silence. Handing the evidence over to the crime scene unit they returned to the squad room. Bobby glanced over to his partner and saw that he was in a state of shock, losing a friendship was always hard but finding your estranged friend's burnt and mutilated corpse had to be so much worse. He followed Andy to Fancy's office and closed the door behind him.

_"What did you find?" _the lieutenant asked as he sat behind his desk and smoothed his tie down.

Bobby glanced at his partner who seemed to be at a loss for words, _"You were right, looks like a Malucci hit"._

_"Any luck with the ID?". _

_"Yeah, Lieutenant. About that…." _Bobby started, unsure of how to continue. _"Effects found on the body list the ID as John Kelly"._

Arthur Fancy's head shot up, he looked dumfounded. _"Are you sure?"._

_"ME says height and build are a match. The hands and teeth have been removed so we can't get a positive ID that way. We've passed the gun we found on to ballistics and they're running a search for the registered owner now. Andy recognised the watch on the body's left wrist, but it's looking like everything points back to Kelly"._


	10. Chapter 10

**Here's the next part, I have changed the formatting of the dialogue to make it a little clearer and have tweaked some of the punctuation. I'm hoping to get another chapter up later on today.**

**Present day. New York:**

Eric listened intently to him, shaking his head in disbelief. "Did you run DNA, facial analysis?"

The older man smirked in response, "Kid, it was 1996. We'd only just started using mobile phones back then. Forensics wasn't as advanced as it is now, besides we had other more important cases to work on."

He bristled at Andy's cavalier attitude and apparent disregard for his friend's life, "More important cases? This guy was your partner, what's more important than that?"

Hackles rising the burly man shot back, "He stopped being my partner the day he turned dirty!"

"What?! You can't be serious!"

He took a deep breath to calm himself; this poor kid obviously had no idea what John Kelly was capable of. "Believe me pal, I wish I wasn't. I really thought I knew the guy, turns out he was as bent as they come."

"No. I refuse to believe it," he shook his head before picking the photo back up and holding it out to the other man. "This guy, he would never do that. I've known him for ten years; he's as straight as they come."

Andy grabbed his packet of cigarettes from the table, pulled one out and lit it. He took a deep drag of the acrid smelling smoke before responding. "Like I keep telling you, kid, John Kelly is dead. Whoever your guy is, it isn't him."

"How are you so sure he was dirty?"

He took another deep drag before tapping the cigarette on the ash tray, "He'd been acting weird for weeks, coming in late and going home early. Some days he never came in at all, he became evasive every time I asked him what was going on. Guy looked like shit, circles under his eyes, he just looked ill. I put it down to personal issues at first; the guy had a lot on his plate at home. I never thought much of it until IAB came knocking one day."

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1994:**

John Kelly sat at his desk nervously tapping his pencil on the jotter on his desk, his eyes darting to the entrance to the squad room and then back to his hands. Andy looked up in annoyance, "Quit tapping, John. You're giving me a headache."

He turned to his partner in confusion, the words not really sinking in. "Sorry, what did you say?" He saw his partner's eyes narrow and kicked himself for being so obvious. He was doing a poor job hiding the strain he was under; the relentless pressure coming from multiple sources was grinding him down. He was living a double life and the strain was starting to show, he knew sooner or later something would have to give.

"Uh oh, here's comes trouble." Greg Medavoy stuttered from across the room as he saw the two IAB officers enter the squad room, he picked up a file and pretended to read it, praying that the rat squad hadn't come looking for him.

John's heart sank as he recognised the lead officer; he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He prayed they weren't here for him but logic told him that there could be no other reason for their unexplained visit. He held the pencil between both hands and gripped it tightly, he hadn't realised how tightly until the wood and lead gave way breaking the pencil in two.

Andy looked up from his paperwork, "Jeeze, what's gotten in to you? Afraid the rat squad have come for you?" he asked jokingly, raising and eyebrow.

He desperately tried to regain his composure, trying not to blow his cover. He placed the pieces of the pencil down and checked his watch, "Andy, I gotta duck out. Can you cover for me?" he asked as he quickly put his suit jacket on, his partner nodded amiably. He had nearly got to the stairs when Lieutenant Fancy's booming voice stopped him.

"Kelly, my office. Now." the voice commanded.

He turned slowly, trying to avoid the looks from his colleagues as he trundled in to his boss's office. "Something the matter, lieutenant?" he asked as nonchalantly as he could, praying he wouldn't be rumbled. He sat nervously in the chair by the desk.

"This is Detective Adams and Sargent Rodriguez from IAB; they've got some questions they want to ask you."

He squirmed uncomfortably in his chair as he loosened the tie around his neck, "What can I do for you gentlemen?" He didn't need to know their answer; he knew exactly why they were here. The time had come to pay the piper, he'd been dreading this day and now it had finally arrived.

Sargent Rodriguez was tall and muscular; his imposing frame would have made lesser men cower in fear. "Detective Kelly, we've had reports that you're involved in some 'extra-curricular' activities. Would you care to explain yourself?"

He glanced at Fancy before looking down at his feet; he knew he had to make this look good. He had to convince all of them, his life depended on it. "I've got no idea what you mean, Sargent. What's this all about?"

The hulking frame of the Spanish man stood in front of him, he reluctantly lifted his head up to look at him, praying that the man would understand his silent request. Rodriguez took a handful of photos from the file in his hand and spread them on the Lieutenant's desk, "We've had you followed, and one of our men took these. Could you please explain to me why you met with Frankie Malucci?"

_"Oh shit, here it comes," _he thought as he took a look at the pictures, they looked incriminating. _"Just remember your story, whatever they ask you don't deviate from it."_

"I want some answers, Detective Kelly."

"I got an anonymous tip off, a guy who said he wanted to talk about the Malucci family. He told me I had to come alone, when I got there it turns out it was the man himself."

"And what did the two of you talk about?" Rodriguez pressed as he stalked around the room.

"He told me he wasn't happy, told me I was digging too deep and that if I knew what was good for me I'd leave it alone."

"And did you? Leave it alone?"

"I told him what he wanted to hear, he and his goons were heavily armed. That was the first and last time I saw him, I swear." he held his hands up as if that would convince the IAB officers of his innocence.

"Nothing else you want to add, Detective Kelly?"

He had to hand it to him, this guy was good. He sure wasn't going to make this easy on him, "That's it, I swear."

Rodriguez stopped his pacing and stroked the hair on his chin thoughtfully before producing several more photos from the file. "You're lying, Kelly. This pictures show you meeting with known associates of the Malucci family at least half a dozen times. How do you explain this?"

His heart sank as he realised that he couldn't talk his way out of this one, he hung his head, not daring to look up at his Lieutenant. He didn't want to see the look of disappointment on the other man's face.

Detective Adams finally spoke up, walking over and dropping a folded piece of paper on John's lap. "This is a warrant to search your locker; you need to come with us please."

He looked at Fancy before wearily raising himself from the chair, the look on the other man's face pained him, he looked betrayed. He walked behind the IAB officers keeping his head down, not wanting to look at his colleagues. He knew the next time he would step into the squad room would be in handcuffs.

They stood by his locker, Rodriguez ordered him to unlock it. He did so silently, only glancing up when his partner walked into the changing rooms to see what was going on. He sighed deeply as he fiddled with the combination lock; he was pushed back by Adams as they began to throw his items carelessly on the floor.

He stood quietly; wishing Andy and Fancy weren't here to witness his fall from grace. He knew this day would come but he hadn't bargained on his colleagues becoming involved in the whole sordid affair. He watched the officers go about their search and felt strangely detached from the situation, as if he were watching himself from afar. Finally they came across the incriminating evidence he knew they would find.

"Care to explain this?"Rodriguez asked as he held the bag of white powder in his gloved hands.

He groaned deeply, they had found what they were looking for. He heard Andy talking to him, asking him questions and desperately trying to piece together what was going on. It all became background noise as he focused on the bag, before he knew what was happening Adams had forced him face-first into the nearest locker before pulling his hands behind his back and snapping the cuffs on. He heard Adams reading him his rights as he pulled him roughly away from the lockers towards the squad room but he was unable to make out many of the words. All he could hear was the blood rushing in his veins as he saw his fragile masquerade fall to pieces before his eyes. He knew it had to be this way, he just wished he hadn't looked back at Andy before he was escorted from the squad room. He would never forget the look on his friend's face for as long as he lived, he only prayed that Andy would one day understand why he had done it.


	11. Chapter 11

**Here's today's second chapter, I will be returning to posting one chapter a day from tomorrow onwards:**

**Present day. New York:**

Andy stubbed the cigarette out as he regarded the man opposite him, _"_That was John Kelly's last day as a cop. He was arrested and stripped of his shield and gun."

"What happened? Did he go to trial?"

The large man laughed bitterly, "Seems the Malucci's wanted to protect their investment, I heard they paid a high price attorney to get him off on a technicality. It was obvious they'd turned him."

"How so?"

"Kelly was a good cop, a great cop. Every time we thought we had the Malucci's they would end up wriggling out of it. We'd raid warehouses we were sure were full of coke and heroin only to find them empty. They were always one step ahead of us, Kelly used to leave little clues just to taunt us."

Eric lent back on his chair, trying to process the information he had heard. The man Andy Sipowicz knew couldn't be Horatio Caine. The questions he asked only lead back to even more questions, right now the man lying in hospital in Miami had no idea what he had done. Heeding the doctor's words he knew he had to convince Andy to come to Miami, hopefully seeing a familiar face would jog Horatio's memory. "Come back to Miami with me."

The statement took Andy by surprise, _"_Why the hell would I want to do that?"

"Because it seems like we all need some answers and the only person who can answer them is him." Eric replied, stabbing his finger down on the photo lying on the coffee table.

He reached for another cigarette, "What good would that do? John was a dirty cop, end of story."

"Please, just think about it." Eric scribbled down his details on a piece of paper and handed it to the other man before leaving.

* * *

_Pulling up outside his apartment building in Queens, he exited the car and locked it. Just as he was about to walk across the street to buy a six pack of beer he was tackled from behind. The air rushed from his lungs as he was forced to the ground by a heavy-set balding thug, he groaned in pain as he was kicked repeatedly in the stomach and chest. Before he knew it he was hauled to his feet, the thug sneered at him as two of his buddies held him up by his arms. Truth be told he was grateful for their support as he knew as soon as they let go that he would fall back down to the ground in a heap. "That all you got?" he smirked in a deliberate attempt to rile the thugs, "You hit like my grandma," he taunted them, he was rewarded with two vicious punches to the face._

_"Shut up and listen, Red. Frankie and Benny have a proposition for you."_

_He knew he was in serious trouble but he couldn't help goading the thugs, "Sorry, my dance card's full. Maybe next time, sweet pea?" He sagged as the head thug punched him hard in the stomach._

_"They want you to know, they've got eyes on you, your ex-wife and that pretty blonde thing you've been seeing for the last few months. We wouldn't want anything to happen to those lovely ladies now, would we?"_

_His blood boiled, giving him a beating was one thing but threatening the people he loved was crossing way over the line. "Stay the hell away from them," he growled as he spat blood from his mouth._

_"Frankie thinks you might need a bit of persuading." _

_"Screw you," he shot back as he spat a mouthful of blood at the goon standing in front of him. It occurred to him some time later that perhaps it wasn't the best move. The thugs set upon him with a vengeance, soon they let go of his arms as he fell once more to the ground. Kicks rained down on him in an almost rhythmical fashion, he saw a boot come flying towards his face. His last thought before losing consciousness was to do all he could to keep his loved ones safe._

He woke with a start, finding himself back in the hospital room. His vision was still blurry but he could make out the outline of the blonde woman, he couldn't work out why she kept visiting. It seemed like she was sitting by his side each time he woke up, it irritated him that he had no idea who she was.

She heard his gasp, folding the paper she was reading she leaned over and placed a hand in his arm. She noticed his still-swollen eyes were open, "You're awake, it looked like you were having a bad dream. I was going to wake you."

He turned his head to her and squinted, disappointed when he couldn't get the image of her to sharpen. He raised a shaky hand to his face and rubbed at his jaw. "What time is it?"

She looked at her watch; "Nearly 6pm, you missed dinner."_ s_he smiled softly at him.

He grimaced at the thought of hospital food, remembering the time he visited Andy after he was shot. It suddenly occurred to him that maybe it hadn't been a dream afterall but a memory from his still unclear past.

She saw the emotions flicker across his face, _"_What is it?" Her concern grew at his shell-shocked look.

"I think….I think I might have remembered something."

She smiled, "That's great news, tell me what you remember." She couldn't help the feeling of excitement that flowed through her, her heart raced at thought of him returning to normal.

Staring at the ceiling he tried to put the pieces together in his mind, his dream was so vivid and yet it seemed so out of place with his other memories. He knew of the Malucci family but why had they come after him? Try as he might he couldn't remember anything past the beating they gave him, what had happened after that? "Nothing much," he sounded bitterly disappointed, "Just a few bits and pieces but none of it makes sense. I remember a name, Malucci." He balled his hands in to fists and glared up at the ceiling, Calleigh couldn't supress the small smile at his typically 'Horatio' actions. It gave her hope that the man she had come to know and love so much was still in there, deep down.

She was about to say something she hoped would be reassuring when her phone began to ring; she fished it out of her purse and answered it. "Duquesne."

"Calleigh. It's me, Eric."

She was so glad to hear his voice; the threatening emails that had been sent to the lab had unnerved her more than she would care to admit. At times like this she would turn to Horatio for help, with him out of commission it was down to her and Eric to solve this mystery before anyone else got hurt. She made her excuses and left the hospital room, shutting the door behind her. "Did you manage to find him?" She was eager to hear his news and prayed that he had better luck than she had.

"Yeah, I found John Kelly's old partner."

"And?" she pressed, desperate for details.

"It's not good, Calleigh. The partner reckons he was a dirty cop, working for some crime family in New York."

"That doesn't sound like Horatio."

"I know, that's what I thought. I showed him H's photo, he says they can't be the same person."

"Why, how can he be sure?"

He sighed, not wanting Calleigh to be any more worried than she already was. "He told me they found his body under the Brooklyn Bridge back in 90's."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing, "That's impossible, there has to be some kind of mistake."

"That's what I told him but he doesn't seem to want to believe it, I asked him to come to Miami to see for himself but he said no."

Calleigh glanced across the room and saw an orderly walking towards Horatio's room; she paid him no mind and returned her attention to Eric. "He has to, Eric. We're getting nowhere fast here; I got another email warning us to back off," she blew out a frustrated breath, "How can we protect Horatio when we don't even know what we're up against?"

There was no time to wait for Eric's answer as she heard a crashing noise and shouting coming from Horatio's hospital room. She thanked God that she was armed as she ran across the waiting room, gun drawn. Kicking the door open she shouted, "Freeze, MDPD!"

**Please note: The use of italics was deliberate so as to signify a dream sequence.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Thank you to all of you who have read and/or reviewed, your continued support is very much appreciated. Here's the next part for you:**

Putting her fear for Horatio's safety to one side Calleigh immediately assessed the scene before her. The orderly she had seen enter the room earlier had his hands around Horatio's throat and was attempting to squeeze the life out of him. Already weakened by his head injury he feebly attempted to grab at his assailant's hands but was unable to gain any purchase. As his body became deprived of oxygen his struggles weakened.

The orderly had paid no attention to Calleigh's warning and instead kept his focus on the struggling red head, making sure her target was in her sights she fired. The orderly screamed and held his left shoulder with his right hand as he stumbled backwards towards the equipment in the corner of the room, cursing as he fell. Kicking the suspect further to the floor she placed the heel of her boot on his crotch, "Don't move or the next one will go right here." He winced as she ground her boot in to his genitals.

His face reddened, "The Malucci's send their best. We're gonna keep coming til your boy is dead!" he spat through gritted teeth.

The sound of a gunshot had alerted the hospital security who came swarming in the room moments later, Calleigh held up her badge and let the guards drag the suspect from the room as he yelled about police brutality. Only when he was out of sight did Calleigh return her attention to Horatio, a doctor and two nurses were standing over his bed working on him. As the adrenaline dissipated fear took over as she saw him lying still on the bed, not moving as the doctor called his name in an effort to wake him. Re-holstering her gun she took a few tentative steps towards the bed, "Is he ok?" she asked nervously.

One of the nurse looked up and smiled at her kindly, at the doctor's nod she led Calleigh from the room. "Let us work on him, someone will come to find you as soon as we know anything."

Still in a state of shock she dropped into the nearest chair in the waiting area, were the emails from the same people who had just tried to carry a hit out on Horatio? She had no idea, she needed to speak to Eric but put that thought to the back of her mind as the doctor left Horatio's room and walked over to her. "How is he? Is he ok?"

He held his hands up, trying to placate her. "Whoever that was managed to do some damage before you restrained him. Mr Caine's airway was compromised as he was asphyxiated, there will be some bruising and swelling on his throat. We've put him on an oxygen mask and we'll monitor his SATs closely but at the moment we're happy with his respiratory functions. Your friend's oxygen supply was cut to his brain and so we're sending him for a CT and an MRI to see if any further damage has been caused. He's physically exhausted from the incident but he's quite lucky the damage wasn't more severe."

It took her a few moments to process the doctor's comments, "Is he awake? Can I see him?"

He glanced at his patient's room and then back to Calleigh, "I don't see why not, we won't be taking him for the scans for another twenty minutes or so. He'll be groggy so don't expect too much from him."

She nodded as the doctor walked away to continue his rounds, she took a few deep breaths and entered Horatio's room. She closed the door and walked over to the bed, wincing at the already-purpling hand marks around his throat. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be asleep, it made her jump when he groaned and his eyes flickered open. His eyes found her, "You're back." he slurred in a croaky voice as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

"Where else would I be?" she smiled at him as she reached for the chair and pulled it closer to the bed. She picked his hand up and held it as she sat down.

"You saved my life." his vocal cords protested at the movement as he tried to speak, his voice muffled by the oxygen mask.

"Of course, I'll always have your back. We're a team."

He fought against the exhaustion, trying to keep his heavy eyelids open by pure force of will alone. He turned his head in her general direction, "I wish I knew who you were." A stray tear ran down his face as he made a feeble attempt to remove the mask from his face before she stopped him.

She felt her heart breaking, how could he not know her or any of the team? That had been together so long, each having the other's back and now here their fearless leader was, laying in hospital and a stranger to them all, she felt her own tears well in her eyes and she willed herself to remain strong for him. "My name is Calleigh; we've worked together for ten years."

He sighed and raised his shaky free hand to his head, his gaze towards the ceiling. He stayed that way for what seemed like an eternity, "I don't remember," The monitors beside the bed began to register his distress as his heart rate increased, "You're a beautiful angel, how could I not remember someone like you?" he asked more to himself than her. He was too wrapped up in his problems to notice the effect his words had on her.

"You shouldn't be here," he croaked, his voice barely audible. He had been quiet for so long that she thought he had fallen asleep. "Somebody's after me, it's too dangerous for you. You need to leave." He looked at her panicked as he feared for her safety.

Despite herself she smiled at his actions, how typically Horatio to put everyone else before himself. He didn't know who he was and yet he was more concerned for her safety than his own. She gripped his hand tighter, "I'm not going anywhere."

"Please, I don't know who these people are or what I've meant to have done but it's too dangerous for you," his words started to slur again as his body began to lose the fight with exhaustion. Two nurses came into the room and began tending to the agitated but weak man in the bed, Calleigh stood back as they began to wheel the bed from the room. His blurry sight fading again he reached out blindly for Calleigh's hand as she grabbed it, he tried to look at her but the blackness was approaching fast and pulling him closer to oblivion. "Call Andy, I need to speak to….Andy." his battered voice trailed off as his hand went limp in hers.

* * *

Eric had only just made it back to his hotel room thirty minutes before, grabbing a quick shower and another cup of the rancid coffee he'd had earlier before his phone rang. "Hey Calleigh, how are things going down there? You kind of hung up on me earlier."

His tone was light but his words stung, "I'm sorry, we had a…..uh…situation here that I had to deal with."

His mind raced, had something happened to Horatio? "What happened?" he asked with some trepidation already expecting the worst.

He could hear her sigh deeply, "Someone tried to carry a hit out on Horatio."

"What? Is he ok?"

"I managed to get to him in time, the guy tried to strangle him. He's bruised and battered but he seems to be relatively ok. They've just taken him for more scans." She sat heavily in hard and unforgiving plastic chair in the ICU waiting area.

"Do you think it's connected to the emails?" Eric's mind began working overtime trying to figure out a connection that would explain this whole sorry situation.

"I'm not sure, Dave couldn't trace the sender." the tiredness was evident in her voice, the stress of the last few days eating away at her.

"Did the suspect say anything? Anything that could give us a clue as to who is after H?"

She thought for a few moments before she remembered what both Horatio and his assailant had said, "He said 'The Malucci's send their best' Horatio mentioned the name earlier too."

"He did? When?"

"I thought he was having a bad dream but he seems sure it was a memory, he mentioned the name 'Malucci'" It was starting to fit together now; at least they had a name they could work with. Calleigh became concerned with the stony silence on the other end of the phone, "Eric, are you still there?" she asked, fearing they'd been disconnected.

"Yeah, uh sorry. It's just that name, it's the same name Horatio's old partner gave me."

"The crime family?"

"Yeah, I've got a feeling H is in a whole world of trouble here. These Malucci's must have tracked him down to Miami."

"But he has no idea who is or what he's meant to have done." the realisation of the gravity of the situation was beginning to set in.

"Calleigh, I need to pay someone a visit. I'll call you as soon as I can." With that Eric abruptly ended the call as he grabbed his wallet and room key and headed for the door.

The thumping on the door was insistent, he thought about ignoring it but after the fifth thump he gave in, "Ok, ok. Keep your hair on," he growled as he shuffled towards the door. He opened it and scowled, "You again. What the hell do you want this time? I've told you all I know."

The balding man went to close the door again but was stopped by Eric's hand, "Wait, I've got to talk to you." He heaved, looking as though he had run the ten blocks from his hotel to Andy's apartment.

"Look, kid, I really wish I could help but I've got nothing more to say."

"Please," he begged as his breathing started to level out, "I've just had a phone call from my colleague, they've put a hit out on him."

"Who?"

"Our mutual friend. The Malucci's know he's in Miami."


	13. Chapter 13

**Here's the next part for you:**

It had been 36 hours since the attempt on Horatio's life and the stress of the situation was starting to take its toll on Calleigh. She had run herself ragged juggling the running of the lab and guarding Horatio. She was thankful that she had a team she could rely on, only returning to the lab briefly to ensure things were running smoothly. The team were coping surprisingly well being three members down, it seemed to be a slow week crime-wise in Miami and for once Calleigh was grateful for that. After the foiled hit Calleigh had requested that Frank only place his best and most trusted officers outside Horatio's room, the whole ICU was under heavy guard but for now all remained quiet.

The ordeal had taken a lot out of Horatio, already weakened by his head injury and frustrated by his lack of memories he began to withdraw into himself. It occurred to her that it was another typically Horatio characteristic and she took hope from it. She took a deep breath and steeled herself before she entered his room, she found him moving his bandaged head from side to side as he muttered restlessly.

His arms twitched as he balled his hands into fists, "Lori" he mumbled, his voice was still hoarse even though the oxygen mask had been removed yesterday and replaced with a nasal cannula. His movements became stiffer and more erratic, just as she was about to wake him his eyes flew open.

He gasped as he attempted to draw more air into his overworked lungs, the monitors beside the bed an audible clue to his distress. He looked wildly around the room until his eyes fell on her. For the first time since he woke from his coma he could see clearly. She was even more beautiful than he had imagined, her gorgeous face framed by silky blonde hair was a welcome sight after his terrible dream.

"Hey there. You ok?" she asked as he began to get his breathing back under control. He smiled his thanks as she adjusted the head of his bed slightly and handed him a cup and straw. He held on to it with shaky hands but took some satisfaction from the fact that he had managed to help himself and was no longer relying on other people to do it for him.

He looked at her, taking his time to commit her image to memory lest he not remember her when he woke next. "Calleigh." he croaked as he took another sip from the cup and handed it back to her.

"Horatio? You remember me?" she asked excitedly.

He gave her a pained smile, "No, sorry. I recognised the voice; you've been here every day since I woke up. It's nice to put a beautiful face to the voice though." He gave her a shy smile.

Try as she might she couldn't help but feel bitterly disappointed, for a moment she hoped his memory had returned. Reality came crashing back down on her; he still had no idea who she was.

He could see she was upset, he reached a hand out to her and gave it a light squeeze. "I'm sorry, I really wish I could remember you." He felt bad for upsetting her, he realised that even though he didn't know this woman he would have done anything for her. She had a hold on his heart yet he didn't know why.

"You will." she told him, willing it to be true. She watched him as his eyelids began to droop; she stroked circles on his hand with her thumb as the rhythmic motion sent him further towards the darkness once more. When she was satisfied that he was asleep she gently placed his arm on his chest and leant back in her chair, content to watch him sleep.

She realised that she too must have dozed off as she came awake with a start, the sound of the door opening putting her on full alert. Afraid that the security had been breached she immediately reached for the gun on her hip, she aimed it squarely at the door, fully prepared to shoot dead the next person who tried to harm Horatio.

"Jeez, lady. Do you greet everyone like that?" she heard the gritty New York accent; she lowered her gun when she saw Eric standing in the doorway behind the other man. The ageing heavy-set man walked further into the room, his eyes widened in shock when he saw the occupant of the bed. "No, it can't be." he whispered dumbfounded.

"You must be Andy Sipowicz."

He paid her little attention, his gaze fixed on the man lying in the bed. He walked closer to him to get a better look. Shaking his head in disbelief he sighed deeply, he thought he had come to terms with his friend's betrayal, the hurt dead and buried along with his partner. Seeing him in the flesh for the first time in nearly twenty years was beginning to open up the wounds that he had hoped were long-healed.

He was sure he heard voices, the sweet melodic tone of his southern belle and a voice that stirred memories deep within him. The gruff New York tone was unmistakable; with great effort he opened his eyes. He couldn't help the small groan that emanated from deep inside him; soon three sets of eyes were boring into him. Attempting to shift up in his bed he moaned as he pain shot through his head, Calleigh helped adjust his position and he smiled at her gratefully. His eyes rested on Andy, he felt an overwhelming sense of relief that someone who he knew was finally here. "Andy, I've got no idea how I ended up here. You've got to help me," He looked at his partner hopefully; his face fell when he saw the scowl on the other man's face, "I don't understand, what's going on?"

He wasn't sure what to feel, relief that his old partner was still alive or fury for the things he had put him through. He felt his hackles rise as his partner acted as if nothing had happened, how could he forget what he put them all through? "I came here because I wanted to see if it was true." The red head looked at him puzzled. Andy's gaze travelled to Horatio's bare chest, his eyes fell upon the scar on the left side of his abdomen just below his ribs. If he was in any doubt before he couldn't deny now that the man lying in the bed and his old partner were one and the same person. Sure, he had looked like John in the photo Eric showed him, time had aged the face that he remembered. 18 years ago he looked more youthful but then didn't everyone? The man had the same red hair and striking blue eyes that John had and the splenectomy scar only served to reiterate what he hoped would not be true. Memories of the last time he visited his partner in hospital came flooding back to him.

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1993:**

Andy walked through the hallways of Lennox Hill hospital, grimacing at the anaesthetic odour that seemed to seep from every corner of the building. He had been woken from his slumber by Lieutenant Fancy; at first the words didn't seem to make sense. It took a while for his sleep-addled brain to kick into gear. He had grabbed his wallet and keys and rushed straight to the hospital.

He stood outside John's room as a nurse tended to him, his eyes were closed and he looked to be asleep. "He'll be groggy at best for the next four to six hours," the doctor had told him before he left for his ward rounds. He winced at the sight of him, covered head to toe in bruises. Most of his face was swollen and blackened, his eyes travelled further down to his abdomen which was covered in bruises too. The doctor had told him that his partner had three cracked ribs and a moderate concussion, the most severe injury was to his spleen which had been removed surgically.

He walked into the room quietly, pulling a face and shaking his head at himself when it occurred to him that John was probably so full up with morphine he wouldn't have heard a bomb go off even if he was lying next to it. He had always seen his partner as young and vital, someone who was constantly on the go or at least fiddling with something in his hands. Seeing him lying there so still unnerved him, looking so bruised and battered he couldn't imagine the pain his friend would be in when he woke up. "We'll get the bastards who did this to you, John."


	14. Chapter 14

**Here's the next part for you, it might answer a few questions and raise a few more...**

**Present day. Miami:**

He didn't understand. Why was Andy being so off with him? His last real memories were of the beating he suffered from the Malucci thugs, from then on everything was a blur. "Why are you looking at me like that, Andy?" he asked his voice still croaky from his brush with death.

It was one thing to find out that his friend was still alive but another entirely to believe that he had no memory of the things that he had done. "You and me," he began, "You think we can just pick up where we left off? You betrayed me, John." He turned away, unable to look at him anymore, the hurt evident in his voice.

"What? I don't understand?" Panic rose in him, the monitors attached to his chest registered his distress once more. "Andy, you're my partner. I'd never betray you." he tried to reason with his friend. Why was Andy treating him like this? They had always had each other's backs and he loved the man like a father, surely he knew that?

"You 'were' my partner," he spat; "Until you sold out to those bottom feeders." He gave his old partner a look of disgust.

"Who? I don't understand!" his voice rose as he struggled to process what was happening. He felt the walls of the room closing in on him. Three sets of eyes pinned him, his head pounded as he attempted to repair his fractured memory and place the fragments that remained in some kind of order. He looked desperately at Calleigh; she had been a port in this storm since he had woken up. Surely she would be able to make Andy understand?

She saw his agitation and reached a hand out to him, he grabbed hold of it as if it were a life line. "This is what Eric has been trying to tell you, he doesn't remember anything." she looked at Andy with pleading eyes, willing him to understand.

He wasn't sure what he felt any more, the last few days had been more than he could handle. Taking one last look at his old partner he shook his head and left the room telling them, "I need some air." At Calleigh's nod Eric ran after him.

She turned her attention back to Horatio, his breath coming in small gasps as he tried to hold back the tears. He looked over at her before squeezing his eyes shut; the events of the last 48 hours more than his damaged head could endure. The maelstrom of emotions that swirled within his mind was threatening to drown him; he could feel its pull dragging him deeper and deeper down. What if he never remembered? He realised that he would be left alone in a world that he didn't understand, with a partner who hated him and people he didn't know making attempts on his life. He had betrayed someone, of that he was sure but he refused to believe that he would ever do that to his partner. He felt the blissful cloud of darkness coming to envelop him once more, his mind attempting to shut off and protect itself. He slowly closed his eyes and drifted away.

* * *

_He woke slowly, groaning as his body protested at the feeble movements he tried to make. Every inch of his body hurt, his arm felt numb as he tried to lift it towards his throbbing abdomen. After several tries his hand finally found the bandages as he rested it on top of his stomach as if holding the injured area would somehow lessen the pain he was in. He looked around the room and found he was alone, he remembered the faces of his friends and colleagues as they came to visit him over the last few days. "It must have been bad," he thought to himself as he remembered his ex-wife's tearful face when she came to see him._

_He was lying as still as he could, even breathing hurt. He closed his eyes and willed his mind to block out the pain praying that a nurse would return soon to give him another shot of morphine. The sound of the door opening made him jump, he groaned as waves of pain cascaded through his battered body at the movement. "That looks like it hurts," an amused voice spoke from the doorway._

_He opened his eyes and regarded the intruder, "Who the hell are you?" he growled, in no mood for pleasantries._

_The man walked further into the room, "I'm your new best friend." he responded casually as he picked up the chart from the end of the bed and flicked through the pages absent-mindedly._

_"What do you want?"_

_He put the chart back and walked across the room, closer to the bed. "It seems we have someone in common, Kelly."_

_His swollen eyes narrowed, "How do you know my name?"_

_"We've been watching you. You sure like to kick at a hornets nest, don't you?"_

_The pain wracking his body and the smug attitude of his visitor was beginning to frustrate him, "What are you talking about?" he said through gritted teeth._

_"Word on the street is that you've been causing the Malucci brothers some problems. Poking your nose in where it doesn't belong."_

_"I'm a cop; it's my job to detect crime. It's what we do." he responded sarcastically as if he were speaking to a child._

_The other man placed his hands in his pockets as he walked up and down the room, looking at the equipment. "And now you've got their attention. We've been trying for months to infiltrate them, and now you pop up. Perfect timing."_

_"Who is 'we'?" His visitor reached into his jacket pocket, for a moment he feared the man would shoot him. His eyes widened when he saw the badge the man had produced._

_"Agent Collins, FBI," he said, before flipping the badge back over and replacing it in his jacket pocket. "You and I are going to work together."_

_"Says who?"_

_"Says the FBI. We've been watching the Malucci's for months, trying to find a way in. We had agents in the area when they attacked you; they heard what the muscle told you."_

_He couldn't believe it, they had heard what was happening and yet stood back and let him taking a kicking? "Thanks for coming to my rescue that night then."_

_His bitter tone didn't seem to affect the government agent, "It served a purpose, what would be the point of alerting them to our presence? Besides, we know they want you on their payroll."_

_He knew what Agent Collins was about to ask him, "No, I'm not doing it. I'd never sell out to a bunch of low rent bullies like them." He would have crossed his arms over his chest to emphasise the point but thought better of it with his damaged ribs._

_"I'm not sure you're getting it, Detective Kelly," the other man said, his back turned towards the door. "You don't get a choice in this."_

_"Are you threatening me?" his gaze narrowed and zeroed in on the cocky agent._

_"I don't need to threaten you; the Malucci's are doing a good enough job for me. You want to keep your ex-wife safe, your partner and that lovely woman you've been banging?"_

_He felt the anger surge through him, the thought of those he cared about being in danger infuriated him. "If I do what you ask, you'll protect them?"_

_Agent Collins turned to face him and looked him squarely in the eyes, "You have my word. We'll make sure that they're safe."_

_He took his time considering his answer, "I'll think about it." Not willing to give the other man an inch._

_Agent Collins nodded and headed for the door, "I wouldn't leave it too long if I were you, you can't protect them all."_


	15. Chapter 15

**Here's the next part for you:**

_"I must have slept all night,"_ he thought to himself as he opened his eyes. For once he was alone in his hospital room and was secretly happy for the peace and quiet; he couldn't take any more of the questioning looks that his visitors had been giving him. He raised a hand to his throat and winced as he touched the bruised flesh on his neck, he was pleased to find that it hurt slightly less to swallow than it had yesterday.

Reaching for the control he awkwardly raised the head of the bed instantly regretting it as the room span wildly. He was glad that the nurses had been thoughtful enough to leave a kidney dish on the bed tray; he reached for it and vomited the pitiful amount of food he had managed to eat yesterday. Stomach emptied he leaned back in the bed and moaned pitifully, God he hated being ill. He hoped that by lying still the room would stop tilting on its axis and give his stomach a chance to settle, combined with the fact that his aching head was pounding in rhythm with his heartbeat he felt miserable.

As he lay with his eyes closed he tried to piece together his memories and combine them with the vivid dream he had last night, as with the last one he knew that it wasn't a figment of his imagination but a sliver of his forgotten past. _"Think, man,"_ he commanded himself as he tried to place the memories in order. The only logical explanation seemed to be that the beating and his meeting with the FBI agent were related; he wished he could remember more. He still had no idea why Andy hated him or exactly what he had done to anger the Malucci family to the point of trying to kill him. He promised himself he would talk to his partner today and thrash out whatever differences they must have had, if he ever came back to visit him that was.

Eric and Calleigh met in the waiting area of the hospital, "Hey, how you doing?" Calleigh asked as she gave Eric a small hug.

He pulled back and regarded her with tired eyes, "I've been better. I've been trying to convince this Sipowicz guy to come back and hear H out."

"Any luck?"

He shrugged his shoulders as he sat down, "Not yet, he keeps growling at me to leave him alone. Thought it best to give him some space for a while."

Calleigh understood what he meant, the man's gruff demeanour reminded her a little of Frank. "The nurses say he slept through the night, no bad dreams," she said, changing the subject. "You wanna go in or should I?"

He gave her a sad smile before answering, "You go, he doesn't even seem to know I'm here half the time," he couldn't keep the disappointment from his voice. He had grown so used to having H by his side that it hurt almost physically to have his brother-in-law treat him as if he were a stranger.

She could see the pain her friend was in, "It won't be this way forever," she tried to reassure him. "He's had a few bits and pieces come back already, we have to hope that he'll get better."

"What if he doesn't?" his eyes were full of despair, he wasn't sure he could live with the fact that Horatio might not ever be the same person.

"We have to be strong for him, Eric. He needs us."

He nodded his head sadly, before climbing wearily from the chair and walking towards the exit, passing a middle-aged man dressed in a smart black suit. So caught up in his misery he paid the stranger no attention as he shoved his hands in his pockets and trudged off.

Calleigh took a few moments to herself, gathering her thoughts before she visited Horatio again. Taking several deep breaths she walked over to his room, knocked on the door and let herself in. She wasn't surprised to find him lying back with his eyes closed; thankfully the swelling around his eyes was decreasing with each day that passed. She wrinkled her nose as she walked closer to the bed; glancing at the tray she found the soiled kidney dish that was causing the offensive odour. She carefully picked it up and took it to the bathroom, flushing the chain afterwards. As she walked back into the main room she could see that the noise had woken Horatio.

He grimaced as he gradually opened his eyes, "Calleigh, you came back."

She walked over to him and placed a hand on his arm, "How are you feeling today?".

"Like crap." he answered honestly, causing Calleigh to frown.

Taking her hand away from his arm and placing it on his forehead she looked at him in concern as she felt the heat radiating from his skin. "You feel hot, let me go and find a nurse."

He was about to tell her not to worry when another wave of nausea hit him, he grabbed blindly for the bowl and emptied what little left there was in his stomach. He closed his eyes and lay back again, hearing nothing but the deafening ringing noise in his ears. He figured she was heading for the door but couldn't be sure as the room began to swing at alarming angles. Time seemed to lose meaning as a feeling of complete misery overtook him, he forced his eyes open again as he heard the sound of the door being opened. Calleigh came back into the room with a doctor following closely behind.

"The doctor's going to check you out, ok?" she told him as she stood by the doorway, giving the doctor room to work. He tried to nod his head and would have screamed at the pain it caused had he not been already been biting on his lip.

"Follow the light with your eyes," the doctor commanded. He tried as best he could to follow the instructions but found that the light caused agony to lance through his skull. Minutes later the doctor walked to the end of the bed and wrote his findings on the chart before calling for a nurse to enter the room. He turned to Calleigh, "You're friend looks like he's picked up an infection." The shock was evident on Calleigh's face, "It's not uncommon with his kind of head injury, we'll put him on a high dose of antibiotics and hope that does the trick."

"Will he be ok?" she had to know the answer.

The doctor shrugged in response, "I would hope so, and it looks like we've caught it in the early stages. He'll probably be quite unwell for a few days but we'll keep him constantly monitored and hope he pulls through with no problems." He turned back to the nurse and instructed her to add something to Horatio's IV.

After the medical staff left the room Calleigh sat back down in the chair beside the bed, her eyes drifting over every part of her friend's body. She could see the red patches on his face and chest as the infection took hold and coursed through his system. She wished she could take his pain away; she took his hand and was comforted when he squeezed it tightly in response. She stroked his head and tried to soothe him, "Just try to sleep, it'll all be over soon."

He opened his eyes to look at her, the room was still spinning wildly around him but he found himself able to focus a little with her in front of him. Even though he didn't really know her that well he felt strangely safe with her, he forced himself to try to relax and let the medication to its work. He was doing a good job until he saw the black-clad figure standing in the doorway; the monitors registered his rise in blood pressure as he recognised the man as being the same person in his dream last night.

Calleigh noticed his distress, "What's wrong?" she asked worriedly as she gripped his hand tighter.

His gaze fell back on her, "He's here." His voice shook slightly as his eyes widened.

She looked round but the man Horatio had seen was no longer there, "There's no one there," she told him, figuring the fever was causing him to hallucinate.

"No, he was there. I saw him." He was insistent, he growled under his breath frustrated that Calleigh didn't understand. "I remember him, he was in my dream."

"There's no one there, just lie back and try to rest."

If her words were meant to soothe him they had the opposite effect, he tried to sit up in the bed and pointed towards the door, breathing heavily. "I know him, you have to stop him. I need to speak to him."

Having been alerted by the increasing beeping of the monitors a doctor and nurse came in to the room. "You need to calm down, sir," the doctor told him as he nodded at the nurse.

Horatio took no notice as he tried to sit forwards again, "You have to listen to me, I know him!"

Taking a syringe from the nurse the doctor administered a light sedative before turning his head to speak to Calleigh, "We had no choice I'm afraid. It's only a light sedative, he needs to remain calm."

She nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. "Can I stay with him?".

"I don't see why not, he'll likely drift in and out for the next few hours. It'll probably be beneficial to have someone with him that he knows at the times when he's lucid."

She couldn't help the tears that escaped from her eyes as she sat back down, the doctor and nurse left the room and shut the door quietly behind them. Her gaze fell upon Horatio; he was lying with his eyes open and was starting at the ceiling. Upon closer inspection she could see his eyes were glassy and unfocussed, his mouth was moving and she strained to hear what he was saying. Moving her head closer to his face she made out one word, 'Collins'.

She watched him closely as his eyes slid shut, he mumbled incoherently as his fever climbed. She lost track of time as she sat and watched him twitch and grimace as he battled unseen enemies in his mind. Suddenly her phone beeped and brought her back to reality, pulling it out of her pocket she opened it and read the message:

**"You and the Cuban have no idea what you're getting involved in. You should have left well alone, Blondie. I'm not the only one who's watching you".**


	16. Chapter 16

**I have managed to find time for two chapters today:**

_He was woken by the sound of trolleys being pushed up and down the corridor; he raised a hand to his face and winced when it came into contact with his bruises. Opening his eyes slowly he took a minute or two to focus on anything, his head was still pounding and his body felt like it had been hit by a truck. Twice. All of his belongings had been removed when he was brought in and there was no clock he could see, he realised that with the artificial lighting in the room he had no idea whether it was day or night. His stomach rumbled but he couldn't face the thought of trying to eat anything, he wasn't sure his swollen mouth would let him let alone his bruised and aching abdomen. "Just lie still and don't move," he told himself as he closed his eyes and prayed for the welcoming blanket of unconsciousness to envelop him again._

_He had managed to drift off into a peaceful slumber for a while before he felt a soft kiss being placed on his cheek. Opening his eyes he found himself face to face with Robin, she gave him a watery smile before sitting in the chair next to his bed. "How are you feeling?" she asked as she took his hand in hers._

_He responded with as firm a squeeze as his battered body would allow, "I'm doing ok," he tried to reassure her. He didn't want to unduly alarm her; the woman had just lost her husband before embarking on a relationship with him. If he were being honest with her he would have told her how awful he really felt, her husband had died and the last thing she needed was to go worrying about her new lover._

_"Have they said when you'll be getting out of here?"_

_He frowned in response, "The doctor said next week, probably. I'm getting bored in here." It was a lie but he didn't want her to worry, the truth was he could hardly move without being in agony. As far as he was concerned, the longer they kept him here pumped full of morphine, the better._

_She looked at him worriedly, chewing on her bottom lip. "John, I need to tell you something," she began before lowering her head._

_He tried to lean forward to be closer to her but groaned as his ribs protested, "What is it, Robin?"._

_She hesitated, "The last couple of days, I don't know if I'm being silly…." she trailed off, glancing at his concerned expression she continued. "I got the feeling that someone was following me, watching me."_

_His heart thumped wildly, the Malucci brothers had threatened to go after his friends and family. He knew he couldn't protect all of them indefinitely, as much as he hated it maybe the FBI agent was right. He realised he would be stuck in a no-win situation, to go undercover and go against everything he stood for as a police officer or risk his loved ones getting hurt. He was torn, whatever he choice he made someone would get hurt, maybe not physically but would he be able to live with himself betraying those closest to him, would they ever understand why he had done it?._

_He was disturbed from his thoughts by Robin placing a hand on his cheek; she looked at him in concern. "John, are you ok?"._

_He shook his head as if to clear it and wished he hadn't as white light pierced his vision, "Did you see them? What did they look like?" She smiled at him as he shifted into 'cop mode'._

_"I didn't see them, as such. I just got a feeling that I was being watched, it's probably nothing," she tried to reassure him as he became agitated._

_"Robin, if you see anyone or you think you're being followed call Andy, we'll get a squad car parked outside your apartment building." He looked at her intently as he spoke._

_"John, it's probably nothing."_

_"Promise me, Robin," he was insistent and becoming more agitated by the second, his breath came in short gasps. "Promise me."_

* * *

The knock on his motel door was insistent; he lay back on his bed and tried to ignore it turning the TV up in an effort to drown the noise out. Still the knocking continued, he got up with a growl and stalked over to the door. _"If it's that damn Cuban again I'm gonna knock him on his ass!"_ he told himself. "You, again. What do you want?" the flight from New York to Miami had been a long one and he was in no mood for pleasantries.

"You need to come back to the hospital." Eric urged him as he stood in the doorway.

"And why would I want to do that?"

"Because he needs you, you're meant to be his friend."

He visibly bristled at the remark, "Well maybe John should have thought of that before he crapped all over our friendship."

"Please, he doesn't remember what he's meant to have done." Eric knew he sounded desperate but he didn't know what else to say to get the other man to understand.

"Look, you seem like a nice kid but John's got you fooled. If you believe that crap about memory loss then that's up to you. You obviously don't know him as well as you think you do."

"Maybe it's you who doesn't know him as well as you think you do," Eric countered as he stood his ground, "Let me in and I'll tell you just what kind of man your partner is."

The stood glaring at each other, neither willing to give ground to the other. Andy's gaze narrowed, "Come in, say your piece and then go. I've got a flight back to New York to catch."

Eric nodded and headed into the sparsely furnished motel room, spying a worn armchair with fraying fabric he sat down, leaning his elbows on his knees. He took a deep breath before he began, not really sure where to start, "The man you know as John Kelly, I know him as Horatio Caine."

Andy snorted derisively, "What kind of crappy name is that?" he taunted as he sat on the bed and lit a cigarette.

Eric ignored him and carried on, "I've known him for over ten years, there's no one I'd trust more with my life."

Andy eyed him warily, "Well then you're a fool."

"We've been in more life and death situations than I can remember and he's always had my back. He's as straight as they come, he's taken down more criminals here than any other officer I know."

"You sure he wasn't making a bit on the side, kid?" Andy took a drag of his cigarette.

"No, never!" Eric felt his anger rise, how dare this man accuse Horatio of being anything less than a loyal and dedicated police officer. "He has absolutely zero tolerance for anyone who cuts out of line under his command. He's a great boss, we'd walk through walls for him and we know he'd do the same for us."

"John's your boss?" Andy asked, amused by the statement.

"He's our lieutenant and a damn fine one he is too." Eric replied indignantly, offended by the other man's tone.

Andy smiled at the thought of his partner rising through the ranks; he knew John had been a damned fine officer. Hell, John had virtually carried him most of the time they were partnered together, if things hadn't turned out the way they had he knew John would have climbed up the ranks in the NYPD, he was meant for better things than being stuck with an old guy like him. The guy was smart without being too cocky about it; he was good looking and charismatic. The perfect poster boy for the precinct, his arrest record was one of the best in the squad. The John he thought he knew was a kind and caring man who took those less experienced under his wing. He remembered the time he had mentored young Officer Martinez and turned him into a promising detective. The young man had idolised him and took it particularly hard the day John had been arrested.

"You need to come back and give him the chance to explain, he needs you right now. You're the only one who can help us find out who's after him." Eric stopped talking as his cell phone rang; he pulled it out absent-mindedly and answered it, "Delko."

"Eric, it's Frank." The voice was terse, no time for pleasantries.

"What's up Frank, I'm kind of in the middle of something here."

"Dispatch has had a report of a B and E down on Coral Grove."

Annoyed at the interruption Eric snapped, "Take Ryan or Natalia. I'm busy here."

"No, you should be here. The address is 3562 Cedar Drive."

Eric felt his heart skip a beat, his face fell as Frank's words sank in. "That's Horatio's house. Give me ten minutes, I'll be there." He ended the call and looked at Andy, "You need to come with me, whatever differences you have, this bigger than both of you."

Andy locked gazes with the younger man; he scowled and picked up his jacket from the bed before heading for the door.


	17. Chapter 17

**Here is what I hope is the first of two chapters today as I will be unable to post anything tomorrow.**

Eric climbed from the Hummer and stood waiting for his reluctant passenger to exit the vehicle, the retired detective was sweating profusely in the sweltering Miami heat. Looking around Eric spotted Frank and walked over to him, "What have we got?" he asked as his eyes swept the scene before him.

"Like I said, Delko. Neighbours called it in when the alarm was triggered, it's been wailing ever since."

"Did the neighbours see anyone enter the premises?" he knew it was a longshot but asked anyway.

Frank shook his head, "People keep themselves to themselves around here, probably why Horatio likes it here so much."

Despite the grim situation Eric couldn't help but smile at Frank's comment, for an intensely private person like Horatio it was the perfect neighbourhood. "Has anyone been inside yet?"

"Just the patrol officers who picked up the call, they've done a sweep of the house. It's clean," Frank's attention turned to the balding man standing beside Eric, "Who's your friend?"

"Andy Sipowicz, an old partner of Horatio's from NYPD." Eric replied, his eyes never leaving the house.

Frank held a hand out to the grumpy detective, "Good to meet you." he grunted.

Andy reluctantly held his hand out and shook the other man's, unnerved at how similar the tall Texan was to himself, not in height but in personality and attitude. "Can't say it's a pleasure. Nothing personal," he added at Frank's withering look.

Frank shook his head and walked away, muttering to himself. "You coming in, Delko?" he barked as he stalked towards the house.

Collecting his case he followed Frank into Horatio's home, the alarm was still shrieking, he silenced it by punching in the number. Horatio had given him a spare key and the code to his security system on the off-chance that anything happened to him. Eric felt his heart sink as it occurred to him that his worst fears were playing out in front of him and he was powerless to do anything about it. The first thing that hit him was the rancid smell, following his nose he walked into the lounge, his eyes widened as he took the scene in. "What the hell….." he trailed off as he placed his kit down and walked to the far wall, written in what looked like blood was the word **'traitor'**. Taking a sample of the red substance he tested it, he turned to Frank. "It's not human blood. An animal of some kind but I won't know until we get it back to the lab."

Frank nodded but his eyes were fixed on the coffee table in the middle of the room, "I think I know where that smell is coming from."

Eric followed Frank's finger, nailed to the table was the rotting carcass of a dead rat. He was no medical examiner but the rodent appeared to have been dead for at least a few days, maggots already beginning to take up residence in their new surroundings. "Who would do this?" he asked out loud, not expecting anyone to answer.

"It's a Malucci trademark," Andy suddenly felt awkward as all eyes in the room fell on him, "When someone grasses on them this is the first thing they get treated to."

Eric wasn't sure he wanted to know but he couldn't stop himself from asking, "What happens next?"

He lifted his eyes momentarily to the younger man before returning them to the coffee table and hiking his pants up, "Trust me, kid. You don't want to know." He had spent the last eighteen years believing his old partner was a dirty cop but now seeds of doubt were beginning to take root in his mind. Whatever John had done he had certainly managed to get on the wrong side of the Malucci's but he was still convinced that he had gone rogue. The more he learnt about his partner the less sure he became about knowing what was truth and what was fiction.

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1994:**

The news of John's arrest had travelled around the precinct like wildfire and Andy suddenly felt the eyes of the whole station boring through him, trying to see if he was as bent as his partner.

He had walked from the locker room in a state of shock, his mind unable to process the fact that John had been caught in possession of a large amount of cocaine. As far as he knew his partner had always been anti-drugs and took a dim view of anyone who was stupid enough to get involved in them. Slowly the pieces started to fall into place, the last few months suddenly making sense.

Since his attack John had become distant and edgy, constantly distracted, seemingly always looking over his shoulder. He put it down to the trauma of the incident and told himself that John would be fine in a month or two. The opposite was true as his partner became more withdrawn, his moods becoming increasingly erratic. John was not a man to lose his temper easily but Andy could see how he balled his fists or clenched his jaw with alarming frequency these days, he looked like a man on the edge.

Acknowledging emotions and being all touchy-feely had never been Andy's strong suit and now he felt guilty for not paying more attention to his partner. John was a private man, not one to air his dirty linen in public and so Andy kept his nose out of whatever was happening in his life. Over the past few weeks he had seen a noticeable difference in his partner's appearance, the dark circles under his eyes and the unshaven stubble on his face were so unlike his well-groomed friend. He put it down to the fact that John was probably having woman trouble, he had a heart of gold but he sure knew how to pick the high-maintenance ladies.

He couldn't stand the looks that were being thrown at him, standing up he pulled his suit jacket from the back of his chair and made his way downstairs. He frowned at the looks the uniformed officers were giving him sensing the word had travelled down here too. Clearing his throat he loosened his tie a little and walked over to the desk sargent, "Is Kelly still in holding?"

Checking his clipboard the sargent nodded, "Cell number five."

The walk to the cells seemed to take forever, evening was fast approaching and Andy knew that the cells would only get more cramped and louder as the night wore on. His feet clicked as he walked along the corridor towards his partner's cell, ignoring the taunts of the other prisoners.

He found John sitting with his feet up on one of the stiff and narrow beds in the cell, knees to his chest and with his arms resting on top of them. The younger man looked at him before returning his gaze to the bed. "What the hell is going on, John?"

The red head kept his gaze averted, head hanging before he finally spoke. "I'm sorry Andy, I never meant for you to find ou.t"

He walked closer to the cell as if trying to see what had caused John to become corrupt, "Tell me this is all some sort of mistake."

"I wish I could, Andy. I'm so sorry." He hung his head in shame, it was too painful to look at his partner and see the betrayal in his eyes.

"No, this isn't you. I refuse to believe it."

"Please, just leave it. I got greedy and now I'm paying the price," he looked at his partner with such sad eyes that it almost broke Andy's heart.

"Why? Why did you do it?" He could feel his anger building as he was unable to comprehend what had changed in his friend.

"Believe me, Andy. It's better that you don't know," he hung his head in shame once more, willing the tears not to fall from his eyes.

"What about Robin and Lori? Did you ever think of them before you stuck your hand in the sweet jar?" Andy's voice rose as his frustration increased.

_"If only you knew,"_ thought the other man silently. "They're nothing to do with this Andy and neither are you so why don't you back off and leave me alone?" He hated being so cold with his partner but it was the only way he would be able to keep him safe, to get Andy involved in this mess would only place all of them in even more danger. "All you ever did was drag me down anyway, I'm much better off not being lumbered with a liability like you. They pay me well, I don't need to be stuck working in a squad room full of pricks like you anymore. The badge means nothing to me." He couldn't believe the words were actually coming out of his own mouth but like a dam bursting its banks once he started he found himself powerless to stop.

Bristling at John's tone he huffed and hiked his trousers over his large stomach again, "Fine, if that's the way you want it. Don't expect me to be at your bail hearing tomorrow. I hope you rot in here." He took one more disgusted look at the man he had thought of as family before walking away.

Only when Andy had left did John allow the tears to fall from his eyes.


	18. Chapter 18

**Here is today's second part. Please not that there will be no update tomorrow for personal reasons. Thank you for your understanding.**

**Present day. Miami:**

Frank and Eric silently searched each room of Horatio's house; blood was smeared on the walls of most of the rooms. Walking in to Horatio's office it was obvious that the room had been ransacked, whoever had been here was clearly looking for something. Eric said a silent prayer, hoping that the Malucci's hadn't found what they were looking for. His eyes fell upon the photos that had been crudely stuck to the walls of the room, dozens of pictures of Horatio going about his business. Whoever had been following him had been doing so for weeks. Lying on the table was an article cut from the Miami Herald newspaper with a half page picture of the lieutenant from a recent press conference, his eyes widened as a target had been drawn on Horatio's face in red pen along with the words, 'Dead man walking'.

Unable to take the rancid smell in the house any longer he made his way to the back yard and gazed out at the ocean ahead of him. With a heavy heart he pulled out his cell phone and dialled a familiar number.

"Duquesne," the melodic Southern voice answered, tinged with an unmistakable air of tiredness.

"Calleigh, it's Eric. How are things at the hospital?"

"Not good," she replied, "Horatio's picked up some kind of infection, he's been restless and mumbling nonsense for the last few hours. How are things with you, did you manage to speak to Andy again?"

He hesitated before answering, "Yeah, I did. Look, dispatch got a call earlier about a B and E at Horatio's house." He winced as he heard her gasp of shock, "Looks like these Malucci people are definitely in town, they've made their feelings toward H pretty clear. These people mean business."

"We'll tighten the security at the hospital, they won't be able to get to him here." Calleigh tried to inject a sense of conviction in to her voice but found herself sadly lacking.

"That's not what worries me, Calleigh. What happens when he's released from hospital? He can't stay here; he'll be a sitting duck."

She realised Eric was right, it didn't take her long to come up with a solution. "Grab as many of his clothes as you can find and take them to the lab, I'll pick them up next time I'm there. He can stay with me until we get this sorted."

He wasn't convinced that it was the best idea, "Are you sure? It's a lot to take on."

"He needs us, Eric. Right now I seem to be about the only one he trusts."

"Ok" he replied reluctantly, "I'll meet you back at the hospital later."

She hung up and returned her attention to Horatio who was shifting restlessly in the bed as his fever climbed, she could see the beads of sweat forming on his face as he mumbled random words.

* * *

_Robin's visit had done nothing to ease his troubled mind; he lay in bed silently hoping that Agent Collins would return soon. Each time he tried to rest he found his mind conjuring up horrific scenarios, his loved ones brutally slain for no other reason than they were unfortunate enough to have known him. He would have got out of the bed and stood guard outside Robin's apartment but his damaged body would not even allow him to lift his head more than a few inches without agonising pain shooting through him. He realised that he would have no way of keeping them all safe, he couldn't guard all of them at the same time. He was just one man, he didn't have the resources to protect them not like the FBI did._

_Would it really be so bad to do as Agent Collins had asked? Going undercover would place his life in peril but at least he would be satisfied that his friends and family were safe, he knew that when all was said and done that was what really mattered to him. He would be asked to do things that went against his very nature as a police officer and a man, would he be able to live with himself for the things he would have to do? The Malucci's would not make it easy on him; he would have to prove his loyalty to them whilst still trying to remain loyal to his oath as an officer of the law._

_After much deliberation and soul searching he finally came to a decision and hoped that it was the right one. As if on cue Agent Collins returned to his room and stood at the end of the bed, "Have you thought any more about my proposition, Detective Kelly?" The tall FBI agent asked as he placed his hands in his trouser pockets._

_He gave the other man a withering glare, already hating him. "Yes, I'll do it. But only on certain conditions."_

_The FBI agent looked at him with some amusement, "And what makes you think that you're in a position to make demands, detective?" The last word was said with such venom that John was under no illusions that Collins thought he was superior to him._

_"You need me; you wouldn't have come back if you didn't."_

_"And what are these conditions?"_

_"Firstly, you keep my family and friends safe. If hear that one of them gets so much as a paper cut the deal is off," he pierced the agent with a fearsome glare._

_"Anything else?" Collins replied nonchalantly._

_"The Malucci's will expect me to earn my place; I want full immunity for anything I have to do to gain their trust."_

_"Is there anything else, detective? Should I start writing a list of your demands?"_

_"No. When this is all over I want your word that you'll protect me. When the Malucci's realise what I've done they'll keep coming after me until they know I'm dead."_

_The FBI agent considered John's words carefully, "That should be manageable, I believe we have a deal." He walked closer to the head of the bed and held his hand out to the red head._

_He wasn't naive enough to take Collin's word for it, "Put it in writing and we do." The other man smiled at him and nodded his head, John reluctantly held his hand out and shook it, realising that he had just made a deal with the devil._

* * *

She sat and watched him as he twitched and groaned, she had heard him mumble the name 'Collins' over and over and began to wonder if he was experiencing another memory in his fevered dreams. She wrote the name down on her pad along with any other names she heard him mention and made a mental note to run some background checks when she got back to the lab. She returned her attention to Horatio when she heard him gasp as his eyes shot open, she placed a hand on his arm. "How are you feeling?" It was a stupid question, he looked awful.

He tried to raise his head but felt another wave of nausea wash over him as he did, "Where's Andy?" he asked as he tried to slow his breathing, his chest was heaving.

She handed him a cup of water and placed the straw in his mouth as he took a couple of grateful sips, "He's not here right now," she replied evasively as she placed the cup back on the tray.

He took her by surprise as he gripped her arm with his free hand, "You need to find him, I have to tell him." He felt his strength leave him as his body betrayed him, his ability to keep his eyes open all but gone.

"What do you need to tell him?" she shook his arm slightly as she tried to rouse him.

With some effort he opened his eyes again, "I had to do it, I didn't have a choice. I need to tell him I'm sorry."

She looked at him in confusion, what he was saying made no sense. She put it down to the fact that his fever was climbing and that in all likelihood he was hallucinating but something deep inside gnawed at her, she wrote down his last words as he fell back into a fitful slumber.


	19. Chapter 19

**My apologies for not updating sooner, my break from writing turned out to be longer than I intended as things have been pretty rough this week. I am hoping to resume normal posting frequency from now on.**

The drive to the hospital was an uncomfortable one, both Eric and Andy had been unnerved by what they had found at Horatio's house but neither man was willing to let the other know what they thought. Andy glanced around the interior of the Hummer as Eric drove, admiring the high-tech equipment that was installed as standard in MDPD vehicles. _"Sure beats the old piles of crap they gave us to drive back in New York," _he thought to himself.

He gave Eric a withering glare as they pulled up in the hospital parking lot, "Unless I'm mistaken, kid, this isn't my motel."

Eric took the keys out of the ignition and turned to face his reluctant passenger, "You need to talk to him."

"You keep saying that, I haven't got anything else left to say to him. He made his choice and now he's going to have to live with it." He folded his arms across his chest as if to reiterate his point.

Frustrated at the other man's stonewalling he took a deep breath and tried again, "Look, I get it. You feel like he betrayed you but the man I know wouldn't have done something like that without a damn good reason. You owe it to him to at least hear him out."

"I don't owe him shit." Andy shot back.

"Why don't you put your pride to one side and think about what's right. If he dies and you didn't do anything to help do you really think you could live with yourself?" The older man remained resolutely defiant in his position, "I always thought H was a pretty good judge of character. Looks like he was wrong about you." Shaking his head sadly, Eric climbed out of the Hummer and slammed the door closed behind him leaving his taciturn passenger behind.

Eric stalked through the hospital corridors as he made his way to the ICU, trying to contain his fiery Cuban temper. Horatio was in serious danger, he had hoped his old partner would have helped track down the people trying to kill him and was bitterly disappointed when Andy Sipowicz was found wanting. He found it hard to believe what the other man had said; Horatio Caine was no dirty cop. If he had done the things Andy said he had then there was surely a good reason for it. If only Horatio could remember, he would be able to explain it to them and then they would at least have an idea of how to help him out of his predicament.

Calleigh smiled as she saw Eric enter the waiting area, grateful to see a familiar and friendly face. They embraced briefly before stepping apart, "How's he doing?" Eric asked as he guided Calleigh to one of the chairs.

"He's sleeping, I think. He's been pretty out of it for most of the day."

"I can go in there, if you need a break." He offered.

She gave him a watery smile in return, "That would be great. I just need to go home and freshen up; I could do with a change of scenery for a while."

He placed his hand on top of hers, "Take as long as you need. I'll make sure he's safe here." He looked towards Horatio's room and saw the two uniformed officers standing guard outside, Calleigh had the whole ICU locked down tighter than a prison in a riot.

She picked her bag up and gave Eric a quick kiss on the cheek, "I'll be back in a few hours. Did you drop his clothes off at the lab?"

"Yep, along with the evidence we collected. Ryan and Walter are processing it at the moment; they'll ring if they get any leads."

She had walked halfway across the waiting room before she looked over her shoulder, glancing at the door to Horatio's room and then back to Eric. "Look after him, Eric."

He nodded his head and rolled his eyes as she walked down the corridor before pulling himself from his seat and entering the room where his friend was laying.

Calleigh was right, he didn't look good. Walking closer to the bed he could see the perspiration on the other man's face as he grimaced and groaned quietly. He sat down in the chair quietly so as not to wake his friend but realised it was probably not worth it, he looked completely out of it. He leant back in the chair and glanced at his watch, _"Plenty of time to think about how we're going to get out of this mess," _he told himself silently.

* * *

She was grateful to be out in the open again; the sterile white walls of the hospital had felt as if they were closing in on her the longer she stayed there. She was torn, half of her glad for the break whilst the other half yearned to be at Horatio's bedside. He had got himself deep into something serious, he was in no condition to defend himself, right now she and Eric were the only ones standing in the way of him and the Malucci's who it seemed were hell-bent on revenge at any cost.

After nipping home for a hot shower and a change of clothes she made her way to the lab. As she walked down the glass-plated halls she was stopped by Ryan calling out to her, changing direction she entered the room he and Walter were in. "Hey, Calleigh," he greeted her with an awkward smile, "How's H?"

"Hanging in there." She looked over to the items that the men were processing, "Have you got something for me?"

"Uh, yeah. Sorry," Ryan tapped the keys of his computer until he pulled up the correct screen. "All of the blood we found at the house comes from the Rattus Norvegicus more commonly known as the brown rat. Tom did an autopsy on the rodent we found at the scene, he said it'd been dead for at least three days and was a typical sewer rat found pretty much anywhere in the county. Cause of death was a broken neck; I suppose it's something that the nail hammered through its body was done post mortem." He mentally kicked himself as he saw the blood drain from Calleigh's face at his cold and clinical assessment of the evidence.

It took her a few moments to regain her composure, "Write up your findings and leave the report on Horatio's desk. Eric or I will pick it up tomorrow." She left and made her way to the locker room in a daze, Eric had told her what had happened at Horatio's house but seeing the evidence laid out in front of her made the whole thing more real somehow. Collecting the holdall that Eric had left she began to make her way to the exit but not before she had stopped at Horatio's office first.

Making sure that no one was around she closed the door and sat at his desk, turning on the computer she entered her password and accessed the database search function. She typed in the name 'Collins' as she searched the criminal databases and when that turned up nothing concrete she tried government employee records hoping on the off-chance that Horatio had been working undercover. She frowned as the computer brought up 23 search results; she narrowed the search parameters by excluding anyone who had been employed after 1993. Three results left. Finally, she excluded anyone who had not been assigned to a field office in the state of New York. _"At last" _she thought as the search had been narrowed down to one person, feeling as if she was getting somewhere she clicked on his name and searched the page for vital information. "Special Agent Richard Collins, FBI," she read aloud to herself, "Joined the Bureau in 1987." She frowned as the information ended there. She knew that it was a long shot, the man probably had nothing to do with Horatio but she had to try.

Not to be deterred she pulled out her cell phone and rang Frank who answered with a gruff, "Trip. What is it?"

"Frank, I need you to do some more digging for me. I need to know everything you can find out about an FBI agent called Richard Collins."

Recognising the familiar voice his tone softened, "Sure thing, I'll see what my contacts say and get back to you," Seeing what the Malucci's had done to his friend's house had unnerved him more than he was willing to admit, "Be careful out there, Calleigh. These assholes might try to come at us to get to Horatio."

"I will, Frank. Keep your eyes open too."

She placed her phone on the desk as the computer bleeped at her, "New email" it read. With a sense of dread she opened it and read:

**"Today's message was just the beginning, things are about to get a whole lot worse. And just so you know, you won't find me unless I want you to."**


	20. Chapter 20

**Thanks again for all the great reviews, it's nice to be back. Updates may be a bit sporadic over the next few days due to work but I'll do my best to update as often as I can.**

Eric had lost track of time, at some point he had fallen asleep in the uncomfortable chair and was only woken by a soft groaning noise emanating from the bed. Sitting up straighter he leaned closer to the dazed figure, "Hey man, you awake?" he asked, careful not to use his friend's name.

He tried to speak but found his mouth dry and uncooperative, after a few dry coughs Eric caught his meaning and placed a cup and straw to his mouth. "Where's Calleigh?" Horatio asked in a sleep-roughened voice, blinking several times as he came back to awareness.

Eric felt a jolt of pain go through him, unreasonably jealous that Calleigh was the first person he asked for. Had all of their years as friends and brothers meant nothing to him? "She's gone home for some rest; she's been here night and day looking after you." His tone was harsher than he intended, unable to keep the hurt from his voice.

If Horatio noticed he didn't say anything, he just took a couple of deep breaths and willed his head to stop spinning. Eventually he turned to Eric, "I need to speak to Andy."

He wasn't quite sure how to react; he had left the stubborn older man in his Hummer hours ago. In all likelihood he had probably got a taxi back to his motel and booked a seat on the first plane back to New York. "He, uh, he had some things to do." He knew it was a lame response but he hoped Horatio was still too doped up and out of it to care too much. He was caught by surprise at the strength of his friend's grip as he took a fistful of Eric's shirt and brought him closer.

"I have to see him, I have to explain." His voice was insistent as his heart rate began to increase.

Eric gently took hold of the hand gripping him and eased it away before placing it back on the bed, "Whatever it is, I'm sure he understands."

"No! He hates me and I have to know why. I have to tell him that I didn't have a choice."

"Then why don't you explain it to me." The gritty tones of Andy Sipowicz travelled across the room as he stood imposingly in the doorway.

Eric glanced at Horatio, the relief on his face was evident and he too was glad that Andy had had a change of mind, perhaps his harsh words in the Hummer had sunk in.

"Andy, you have to hear me out," the red head began as he tried to pull himself up in the bed, seeing his struggle Eric found the controls and adjusted the headrest. "I don't know what I've done to make you hate me, I can't remember what happened." He looked at his old partner with pleading eyes.

Andy was having none of it, "I like this little 'amnesia' thing you've got going on here. We both know you're full of shit, John. These fools might believe whatever crap you've been spinning them but I don't."

"You have to believe me! My memories are all over the place, it's just bits and pieces and I can't make any sense of it," he blew out a frustrated breath as his brain refused to recall the events of his past. "I've been dreaming about it."

He folded his arms of his chest, "Really? You dreamt your memories back?" he asked, clearly amused. "I'll give you credit for that one, John. Full marks for originality."

"I remembered the attack, you coming to visit me in the hospital," he began, "It was the Malucci's they wanted me on their payroll."

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1994:**

Andy Sipowicz pulled his car into the hospital parking lot intending to visit his partner. It had been five days since the attack and they were no closer to finding any suspects in the case. John had been out of it for most of that time, between the concussion and pain medication he had made little to no sense each time he had tried to talk to him. Lt Fancy had told him to swing by Lennox Hill and visit his partner again in the hopes that he might have remembered something.

He knocked on the door and opened it, happy to see John sitting up in the bed with a car magazine in his hands. He was still bruised and swollen but he looked a hell of a lot better than the night the EMTs had brought him in. Placing the magazine on his lap he smiled at his partner, "Hey, Andy. It's good to see you; shouldn't you be at the precinct?"

Closing the door he walked closer to the bed, "Fancy asked me to come by and see you."

He looked genuinely disappointed, "And here I was thinking you'd come to see me."

Realising his words had come out wrong Andy tried again, "Yeah that too," he said awkwardly, never comfortable talking about his feelings to anyone. "We're getting nowhere fast with tracking down your attackers. Are you sure you didn't see anything?"

He realised it would be all too easy to tell the truth, let Andy know that it was the Malucci thugs that had put him in here. He felt terrible for lying to his colleagues at the precinct and even worse about lying to Andy. He had made a deal though and he was forced to stick with it, "Nothing. They tackled me from behind. I didn't see any faces, just boots." He lied, only half-telling the truth.

"And they didn't say anything to you?" John shook his head, hoping Andy wouldn't continue to grill him. "We know it wasn't a mugging, you still had your watch and wallet when they found you." The older man paced the room as he considered the facts, suddenly it dawned on him. "Were you sleeping with someone's wife?"

He couldn't hide the look of shock on his face; he had embarked on a relationship with Robin. He was many things but a cheat wasn't one of them but he realised that Andy might have just provided him with the perfect reason to get the precinct off his back. Hating himself for it he gave his partner the best smug smile he could manage.

"Ah, I get it now. You got caught dipping your wick in another man's wax."

He winced at the crude analogy but knew it was in everyone's best interests if he gave Andy the impression that he was right. "You got me Andy; I got caught where I shouldn't have been. The lady's old man didn't take too kindly to me being in his bed so he sent some heavies round to teach me a lesson." He hung his head in shame but not for the reasons Andy thought he had, "Look, this is embarrassing. I'd rather not have it getting out; can you just close the case and move on? I don't want to press charges anyway."

Andy walked up to his partner and placed his hand heavily on the other man's shoulder who winced at the contact. "Well, John. I hope you've learnt a valuable lesson." He chuckled to himself as he left the room.

When he was sure Andy had gone he let out a long breath knowing that he had just told the first in a long line of lies that he knew were to come.


	21. Chapter 21

**Here's a slightly longer chapter for you seeing as I ran out of time to post anything yesterday, I hope you enjoy:**

"Was it worth it, John?" Andy asked as he narrowed his eyes at his old partner.

"Was what worth it?" he replied, confused by the line of questioning.

"How much money did it take to turn you?"

His mouth dropped open in surprise; Eric would have laughed at the sight of Horatio speechless had the situation not been so dire. "It wasn't about the money; I did it to protect you all."

Andy laughed bitterly, "Hang on, let me get this straight," he placed a hand on his chin as if lost in thought. "You joined the Malucci's payroll to protect me? I'm sorry; I don't see how distributing drugs on the streets and murdering people counts as protecting the people you were supposed to care about."

He began to get increasingly frustrated, why didn't Andy understand? All he had were vague bits and pieces of memories, he needed his partner to help make sense of them all. "I dreamt," he began until he saw the look on the other man's face, "I remember the night I was attacked, it was the Malucci's. They wanted me to work for them; they threatened to go after my friends and family if I didn't."

"Why didn't you come to me, we could have worked it out together." Andy's gruff tone softened slightly.

"I didn't know what to do, I didn't have a choice. I remember Robin coming to visit me; she told me that she thought she was being watched. I realised that I couldn't be everywhere at once, the only way to protect you all was to do what they wanted. They had people everywhere, Andy."

"I don't believe it; you took the money and couldn't give a shit about the rest of us!" Andy shouted, furious at himself for almost believing the lying piece of crap in front of him. "You sure didn't care about my safety the last time I saw you, you had your Goddamn gun in my face!"

**Flashback. New York 1995:**

Andy and Bobby stood outside an abandoned building in the Bronx, graffiti covered almost every square inch of the neighbourhood. It wasn't a welcoming sight; it was no wonder the place was deserted. Drug trafficking and violent crimes were rife in this area and it was easy to see why, boarded up shops lined the streets as well as the burnt out shells of abandoned cars. _"A perfect spot for the Malucci's to hide their drugs," _Andy thought to himself, _"No one in their right mind would come within 10 feet of this block unless they had to." _Checking the ammunition in his police-issued revolver he turned to his partner who was busy organising the troop of uniformed officers they had brought with them. "Ready to go, Bobby?"

His partner nodded as he withdrew his service weapon and instructed the other officers to follow him. "We'll take the top two floors, Andy you and the others search the ground level and the basement."

Adjusting his bullet-proof vest and making sure his badge was on show Andy and his team of uniformed officers began sweeping the ground floor room by room. After ten minutes of searching he was becoming increasingly frustrated at finding nothing but empty cardboard boxes, he kicked at one in frustration. "Damn you, Kelly!" he shouted as the box flew across the room. As the box landed and the dust he had disturbed settled he saw movement out the corner of his eye. Turning his head in that direction he saw the silhouette of a figure moving across the large room, "Freeze, NYPD!" he hollered as he ran after the suspect. Realising that running was not his strong suit he was somewhat relieved when he found he had cornered the shadowy figure, he raised his gun higher and took aim. "Give it up, there's nowhere to go."

The dark figure looked around the room furiously, searching for an escape route until his eyes landed on the broken window behind him. "You don't want to do that," Andy said as he walked closer to his prey, "Come out with your hands up and we can talk about this."

He relaxed a little as he saw the suspect hang his head in defeat, Andy lowered his gun slightly and took his eyes off of him only for a second but that was all the other man needed. He quickly lunged forward at the burly detective, knocking him to the ground. From his position he could finally see the face of the person he had been chasing; standing over him stood John Kelly. Looking worn and haggard the red head stood over his former partner, gun pointed at his head. _"This is it," _thought Andy, _"I never imagined I'd go out like this, dead at the hands of a man I thought I knew." _He closed his eyes and waited for the kill shot, _"Just make it quick, between the eyes. You owe me that much at least."_

Time seemed to drag as he waited for John to put an end his life, he lay with his eyes closed, making peace with himself and the people he had wronged during his colourful past. He opened his eyes as he heard Bobby shouting to him across the room, "Andy, where are you? Are you alright?" Clearing the room of any threats first, the Hispanic man ran up to his partner and stood over him, holding his hand out to pull Andy up as he re-holstered his weapon. "What happened?"

With Bobby's help he hauled himself to his feet and dusted his suit pants off with his hands, "I had a suspect cornered; he threw himself at me and knocked me to the ground."

"Where did he go?" Bobby asked as he looked around the room with his flashlight, looking for any trace of Andy's assailant.

"My best guess, out the window." He bent down and picked his gun up from the floor.

Bobby peered out the broken window and noticed the disturbed ground below, it had to have been a drop of at least 6 feet, he surmised. "Did you get a look at his face?"

He huffed at that, "You could say that, it was Kelly."

**Present day. Miami:**

He shook his damaged head as much as his injuries would allow, "No, I would never do that to you, Andy." The monitors attached to his chest began to beep with increasing frequency as confusion and panic began to overwhelm him, his fever not helping his muddled state of mind.

A nurse came bustling in to the room, "What on earth is going on here?" she asked as she walked towards the monitors by the bed, noting the elevated readings. Seeing the look of distress on her patient's face she turned to his visitors, "You two need to leave. Now." The nurse gave them such a stern look that would have made lesser men cower.

Eric looked back at his friend who was breath was coming in short gasps as the nurse tried to fit an oxygen mask over his face. His eyes began to droop as the lack of oxygen took hold and sapped what little strength he had. "Andy," he called out in one last desperate attempt to reason with him, "You need to speak… to Collins….he'll tell you why." His words slurred as his eyes finally closed.

"I don't suppose you know who this Collins guy is?" Eric asked as he sat down in the waiting area and rubbed a weary hand over his face.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets Andy answered, "Nope. Don't know and I don't care," at the other man's look he added, "I need some time to get my head around all of this."

Eric smiled, "I know what you mean," he regarded the other man, seeing the uncertainty on his face. "You're having doubts, aren't you?"

He did his best to look affronted at that, "I was so sure about what happened back then. We were partners for all those years, I trusted him and he lied to me and betrayed me."

"And now?"

"And now I have no idea if he's still lying to me or telling the truth." He shook his head sadly as he left the waiting area and made his way out of the hospital.

Eric glanced up as he heard the door to Horatio's room open, the nurse shot him a withering glare before returning to her station. Deciding that it was best not to re-enter the room just yet he pulled out his phone and called Calleigh.

"Hey Eric." She answered sweetly, "How's it going over there?"

He let out a deep sigh, "We got kicked out of H's room by the nurse."

"Why? What happened?"

"His old partner dropped by for a visit, he's still pretty much convinced that Horatio did the dirty on all of them back in New York." He changed the subject, "How are things back at the lab?"

"Good, I checked in with Walter and Ryan, whoever broke into Horatio's house didn't leave many clues. The only prints they found were Horatio's although I think it's pretty obvious who's behind it."

"Any luck tracing the emails?"

It was her turn to let out a long sigh, "No, but I did do some digging on a name I heard Horatio mumble in his sleep. I don't suppose the name Collins means anything to you?" A pregnant pause filled the air, "Eric, are you still there?"

"Yeah…uh, what was that name again?"

"Collins. He kept saying it; he was getting pretty agitated about it too."

"I know that name. The last thing H said before the nurse threw us out was, 'Speak to Collins, he'll tell you why.'"

"Eric, I think we might be getting somewhere." She said excitedly, "I did a search of all government agency databases and narrowed it down to one solid candidate, Special Agent Richard Collins, FBI."

"Calleigh, that's great news. Have you tracked him down yet?"

"I've got Frank working on it as we speak; he's going to let me know as soon as he's got anything."

Eric felt a sense of renewed hope, "Maybe this is the lucky break we needed. Keep at it, Calleigh, let me know what you find out." He snapped his phone shut and walked over to Horatio's room feeling better than he had in days.


	22. Chapter 22

**Here's another chapter to make up for not posting yesterday:**

She was just about to collect her belongings and return to the hospital when Frank knocked on the door of Horatio's office, "This a good time?" he asked as he poked his head in to the room.

She gave him a tired smile, "Only if you've got some information for me." She waved him in with her hand and invited him to sit.

Sitting down, Frank pulled his notepad from his suit jacket and began, "I got some information on the guy you asked me to look in to," he gave her a quick glance before continuing, "My contacts say this Collins guy spent most of his career working in Organised Crime units up and down the country. He spent three years in New York between '93 and '96 so that's a match up with Horatio's past."

"Have you got any idea where he is now?" she was eager for answers.

"Last known field office was in Jacksonville, according to records he transferred there in 2010," he gave her a tight smile, "That's all I've got, sorry."

"You've given me a lot to work with, Frank. I feel like we're finally getting somewhere, the sooner we can talk to Agent Collins the sooner we'll know what we're up against."

Frank gave a quick nod before exiting the room, leaving Calleigh to ponder over the new information.

* * *

Sitting once more in his motel room Andy felt emotionally exhausted. Over the years he had managed to come to terms with the loss of his partner and his betrayal. What hurt the most was that John had almost become like a son to him, filling the void his own son had left when his alcoholism had taken control of his life. Guiding a young rookie detective like John almost made him feel as if he could atone for the things he had done, giving back something good to make up for the hurt he had caused his own family. He liked to think that John thought of him as the father he never had, God knows the kid stuck by him more than most of partners would have. John has carried him for a long time as he lost his grip on life and was consumed with his need to drink, even when he had been shot the guy had braved the hospital to come and visit him even though he knew the younger man hated them.

He hated what John had become but he silently hated himself more for not seeing what was going on right in front of him. He had been too consumed with his own life, trying to reconnect with his wayward son and embarking on a relationship with Sylvia. _"If I'd just paid more attention to what was going one with him, I could have stopped it." _For months after John's attack he had seen subtle changes in the man's behaviour, _"I'll ask him about it tomorrow." _he would tell himself. They had run out of tomorrows, it was too late to save his friend from the hand fate had dealt him.

He honestly thought John would have killed him when he cornered him in the warehouse; rumours had been flying round the precinct for years about the things his old partner had done in the name of loyalty to the Malucci's. The look on John's face was cold and calculating, as if he were devoid of any emotion. Those few short years had aged the young man considerably, looking haggard and unshaven he seemed more like a drug addict than the smart and composed detective he used to know him as. _"Why didn't he pull the trigger?" _he asked himself as he shrugged his jacket off and sat heavily on the bed. John had had him where he wanted him; all he had to do was squeeze the trigger. A part of Andy hoped that some small essence of the John Kelly he knew was still deep inside of the violent criminal he'd become.

As the years passed he began to think of him less, the loss of his eldest son and the birth of another had kept him occupied. Thoughts of John drifted to the back of his mind as life's daily routine took over. He had not even spared the time to go to his funeral, still too angry at him for the hurt and betrayal he had caused. It was a decision that Andy had regretted ever since, maybe it would have made the deep wounds he had suffered heal quicker. _"Bury John along with the pain and move on." _For once he wished he had listened to himself.

* * *

_Word on the street was that the NYPD were raiding suspected drug dens in the Bronx area. John grimaced as Benny Malucci instructed him to take a group to the abandoned building on 56__th__ Street to clear the place of drugs before the cops arrived._

_Intel had told them that the raids were imminent; the building had almost been cleaned of product when he heard several patrol cars pull up. The blue and red flashing lights illuminated the room in a rhythmical fashion as they span. Daring to take a peek out of the window his heart sank as he saw the familiar face. "Thank God I'm the last one here." He told himself as he reached for his gun and checked the ammo; he knew that if the others were here it would most likely turn into a bloodbath with shots being fired back and forth across the building. "No, no one gets hurt." He promised himself, darting away from the window as he heard footsteps approaching the building._

_He heard the voice of who he presumed was Andy's new partner; he felt a pang of jealousy go through him. Did Andy care as much for the new guy as he used to for him? "It should be me out there with him." He moved as silently as he could across the room as he heard voices approaching, his heart skipped a beat when he heard the familiar gruff tones of his old partner. Peering round a corner he saw the silhouette of the other man, he ducked his head back and pressed himself flat against the wall but it was already too late, he'd been seen._

_"Freeze, NYPD!" his old partner yelled running across the room in pursuit. The older man was keeping up with him surprisingly well considering the differences in age and weight between them. He ran from room to room until he had got Andy where he wanted him. He stood at the end of the room by the broken window making sure his face was still covered by darkness, "Give it up, you've got nowhere to go." He heard him say. He darted his head back and forth from the window, trying to lull Andy into a false sense of security._

_"You don't want to do that," his partner called out as he raised his gun higher, "Come out with your hands up and we can talk about this." He hung his head in mock defeat waiting for the right moment to pounce, as if on cue Andy lowered his gun slightly. The slight lapse in concentration was all he needed; he darted from the shadows and threw himself at the other man, knocking him to the ground, the gun falling from Andy's hand as he landed._

_He stood over him, only now showing his face. He felt his heart break a little further as he raised his gun and aimed it at the man he considered a father to him. He had done things, bad things but there were some lines even he wouldn't cross. He had sworn to keep them safe, it was the only reason he had carried on with the façade for so long. Seeing Andy closing his eyes and waiting for the kill shot sent a physical pain through him, had he been so successful in convincing them he was a dirty cop? If he had he hated himself for it, "You're a dirty former cop," he told himself bitterly._

_He lowered his gun, he couldn't do it. He could never do it. With one last quick glance at Andy he made his way silently to the window, climbing out and dropping to the ground six feet below. He winced as he landed awkwardly on his ankle, causing a sharp pain to shoot up his right leg. Engaging the safety and shoving his gun in the band of his jeans he limped quickly away and out of sight. Hating himself even further for the man he had become._

His eyes shot open, "Andy, no!" he shouted as looked rapidly round the room. Eric shot up and stood over him but he couldn't hear what the younger man was saying. He raised a hand and covered his eyes, hiding the pained expression on his face, "Oh, God. Andy, what have I done?"


	23. Chapter 23

**Thanks again for the great reviews, here's the next part for you:**

Buoyed with the new sense of hope Frank's information had given her Calleigh stayed at the lab longer than she had intended. Several hours and frustrating phone calls later she dialled a number that she hoped would lead to the man she had been trying to trace all day.

"Collins." A harsh voice barked.

She jumped slightly at the hardened tone of the FBI agent, "Richard Collins?"

"Who's asking?"

"My name's Calleigh Duquesne. I work in the crime lab at MDPD."

"And what has that got to do with me. Who gave you my number?" the man growled.

"I have my ways," she answered cryptically, attempting to match wits with the wily agent. "We have reason to believe that you have information on a case of ours."

"And what case would that be?"

"A few days ago a hit was put out on our lieutenant, Horatio Caine. You might know him better as John Kelly."

Silence filled the air; the pause in conversation seemed to last for an eternity before the man spoke. "He's taught you well, I see." She could hear him huff in amusement, "He never could leave things well alone. You're just like him, sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong." He paused again before continuing, "I warned you to stay away, this isn't something you want to get involved in. People will end up getting hurt."

"I'm already in involved and people have already got hurt!" she shouted down the phone as her temper frayed. Her eyes narrowed as the meaning of his words sank in, "Wait. The emails, you sent them, didn't you?"

"I had hoped that you and the Cuban boy would take notice, seems my efforts were wasted." He sighed dramatically, "Now you've got too many people involved. This isn't going to end well, you know."

"We need your help. He needs your help."

"I did everything I could, Miss Duquesne. It's not my fault your man was too stubborn to heed my warnings. I told him to pack his bags and move on before it was too late."

The pieces were starting to fall into place now, "It was you, wasn't it? You were the one Horatio was arguing with in his office."

"Very clever, he's trained you very well indeed."

Calleigh bristled at the man's smug tone, "You need to come down to the station and tell me everything you know," she commanded with more authority than she felt.

"I don't need to do anything, Miss Duquesne. I think you forget who you're talking to. This 'situation' is way above your pay grade."

"I need answers, I can't protect him if we don't know what we're up against." She pleaded with the FBI agent, trying to reason with him.

"You can't protect him; you would do well to leave it alone."

"His life is in danger; you owe it to him to help!"

"I don't owe him anything; he was a means to an end. Nothing more." His tone was cold and emotionless.

"You bastard!" she shouted as her temper boiled over, "I don't care what it takes, I'll track you down and you _will _tell me what I need to know." The response was a dial tone signifying that the man had hung up; she threw her phone down in frustration.

* * *

_"It's times like these," _Andy thought to himself as he laid back on the stiff mattress in his motel room, _"that I could really do with a drink." _His head was all over the place, years ago losing himself in a bottle of scotch was the perfect answer to a long day. He'd been sober for a long time now but the yearning for a drink never left him no matter how hard he tried. His long-held anger was starting to give way to doubt, he knew John was a good liar but was he that convincing that he could fake amnesia? _"Wouldn't put it past him," _he thought to himself.

What if it was true, that he didn't remember what had happened? It still didn't change the fact that he had done those terrible things. John had told him earlier that he had to do it, that he had no choice but surely there was a better solution than selling out to the Malucci's? He had wanted so badly to hate John for the rest of his life but looking into the pained soulful eyes of his old partner he almost felt sorry for him. If John had really lost his memory then perhaps it was better that way, telling him the truth earlier had only upset the man and set his recovery back further. He envied the younger man's current predicament, he laughed bitterly to himself as he realised that although John had been the one to cause all of their suffering he himself was the one that carried all of the pain of their past.

His pondering was disturbed by the shrill ringing of the phone by the bedside, pinching the bridge of his nose he answered it, "What is it?" he barked.

"It's Eric Delko."

"You, again? You applying to be president of my fan club or something?" He couldn't help snapping at the younger man, his head spinning from the rollercoaster ride of the last few days.

"You need to come down to the hospital." Eric's voice was insistent.

"No, I don't. I need you to leave me the hell alone."

"Please," the younger man begged, "He's really agitated; I can't get him to calm down. He's insisting he talks to you."

"I think we've both done enough talking today, it's late and I'm tired."

"Please just think about it, will you come by in the morning?"

He could hear the desperation in the other man's voice. His feelings for John rising back to the surface, he wanted to hate him and leave him to his misery but he realised that he could never turn his back on him completely. Right now his bruised ego wouldn't allow him to reach a hand out in forgiveness, he still needed to know why John had done it before he could lay the demons of their tattered friendship to rest. "I'll think about it," was all he said as he slammed the phone back down into its cradle, lying back down he tried to close his eyes and drift off to sleep.

* * *

Eric walked back into Horatio's room looking dejected, "Did you speak to him? Is he coming?" his brother in law asked as he attempted to sit up further in the bed.

He reached over and placed a hand on Horatio's chest, halting his movements. "He's not coming tonight," pain lanced through his heart as he saw the look on the other man's face. "I tried, I'm sorry." He watched as Horatio stared up at the ceiling, his voice made him jump when he finally spoke.

"I aimed a gun in his face, I could have killed him," he said out loud to himself.

"It was just a dream, it wasn't real." Eric tried to calm the redhead down, fearing a repeat of earlier in the day.

He turned his head to look at him, "No, it was real. I was in that building, moving drugs for the Malucci's. He came after me until I was cornered; I had to make a move." He looked at Eric, pleading with him to understand. "I swear that I didn't want anyone to get hurt. I had to make him see, I was the only one left. I levelled my gun at him when he was on the floor, he was defenceless. He'd dropped his gun when he fell, he wasn't a threat. I just needed enough time to get away."

The words were coming out of Horatio's mouth in a jumble and Eric struggled to make sense of what the other man was saying. "Easy, slow down," he said as a hand gripped his arm.

"I have to tell him," the redhead slurred as his strength finally ran out and his gripped loosened on Eric's sleeve.

Sitting watching his friend slip into a dreamless slumber he decided it was time to take action. Whether Andy liked it or not, he would insist that the other man met with Calleigh and himself tomorrow. They had all heard and been told different things, Eric realised that the three of them putting their heads together would give them all a better idea of what the hell was going on.


	24. Chapter 24

**I'm hoping to be able to get two chapters out today:**

He had managed the drift off to sleep at some point during the early hours of the morning, his dreams consumed by the face of his old partner. He came back to awareness as he heard a harsh knocking at his door, rubbing his eyes he growled at the disturbance. He sat up slowly and lowered his legs from the bed on to the floor, looking down at himself he realised that he had fallen asleep in his clothes.

The banging on the door continued, "Enough already!" he bellowed as he dragged himself to his feet. Opening the door he scowled at his visitors, "Oh look, Mulder and Scully. To what do I owe the pleasure this time?"

Eric raised an eyebrow in amusement at the grouchy detective's remark, "We need to talk," he began as he held a tray of take-out coffee cups up. "Thought you might like one of these." He didn't wait for answer as he brushed past Andy and placed the coffee on a nearby table with Calleigh following closely behind.

"Look, if you've come to persuade me to visit John you're wasting your time." He held his hands up as he saw the look on their faces, "I was going to say that I've decided to hear him out."

"Good." Calleigh said as she sat herself down, folding her arms across her chest.

He was confused, "So why are you here then?"

Eric spoke up, "We thought it'd be a good idea to put what we know together, and then we might have a better idea of what is going on."

He couldn't argue with the younger man's logic, he smiled to himself as he realised that John had taught his young charges well. "Sounds like a good idea," he said as he lowered himself back down to the bed. "What do you know?"

Calleigh was the first to speak up, "A couple of nights ago Horatio was mumbling in his sleep. He kept saying the name 'Collins' over and over, I did a little digging," she let her words trail off.

"And?"

"I ran searches on the name, cross-referenced it with the dates and locations of Horatio's past. I searched criminal databases and when I didn't find anything I checked the government agencies instead. The only name that remained was for an FBI agent called Richard Collins. Does that name mean anything to you?"

Andy shrugged his shoulders, "Nope. Should it?"

Eric interjected, "You never saw Horatio talking to anyone who looked like FBI?"

"Kid, FBI agents are pretty good at not being seen. If John had something to do with this guy then I wasn't aware of it. You got any pictures of him?" he asked as he reached for his packet of cigarettes, pulling one out and lighting it. Calleigh pulled an A4 glossy photo from the file she was holding and passed it to him. He studied it closely, the longer he looked at it the surer he was that he recognised the man.

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1994:**

It had been a swelteringly hot day in Manhattan; it was days like these that Andy longed for the bitter chill of winter in the air. At least if it was cold you could wrap up and keep warm, in the summer when the humidity was high there was simply nothing you could do to cool down enough. _"Except take your clothes off," _he thought to himself. He laughed bitterly at that, _"John could probably get away with it but not me."_

He smiled to himself as he stood outside the 15th precinct, a lit cigarette dangling from his left hand. John had been back at work for just over a week, it had been just over a month since the attack and although the physical scars of that evening were healing he sensed his partner had been shaken by the incident more than the young man would care to admit. John had given off the impression of being back to his slightly cocky and confident self in the squad room but he knew him better than that. There was clearly something on the man's mind that much was obvious when they drove to crime scenes or to interview witnesses together.

The two of them had always had a good-natured banter when it came to deciding who would drive their police-issued car at the start of each shift. Since John had returned he had given the keys to Andy without a word, climbing in to the passenger seat and waiting for his partner. Unable to keep his curiosity at bay he asked the younger man about it as they drove to a crime scene in Lower Manhattan. "Anything up, kid?" he asked as he kept his eyes on the road, glancing occasionally at his partner. He turned his head to him when he didn't get a response, "John, you listening to me?" he said a little louder, trying to get his attention.

"Sorry, Andy?" he kicked himself for getting caught daydreaming.

"Is something on your mind? We can talk about it if there is," he prodded gently as he returned his gaze to the road. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the younger man squirm in his seat as he loosened the tie around his neck slightly.

"Nothing's the matter. I'm fine Andy," he added, "Honestly," as his partner gave him a wary look.

"If it's about what happened Fancy can set you up with an appointment with the department shrink if you want."

"No, definitely not." His words came out harshly; he let out a long breath and tried to regain his composure. "There's nothing wrong. I'm fine."

The look John gave him warned him not to push his partner further. Against type John was not your typical fiery red head, sure the man could get frustrated and angry but no more than the next man. It was one of his finer qualities Andy thought, his ability to keep calm under the most trying of circumstances. He reminded himself that John wasn't at his best at the moment, his head still all over the place from the brutal beating he suffered only a few weeks ago. Sensing that his partner had closed down the conversation they made the rest of the journey in silence.

Returning his thoughts to the present he saw his partner walk out of the building and down the steps to the street below, looking troubled. He called out to him but John took no notice and marched further down the sidewalk, away from the precinct until he reached a black sedan car. A tall dark-suited figure climbed from the car and stood face to face with John, both men were a match in stature and height. He could see his partner become increasingly agitated as he placed his hands on his hips in a gesture of defiance. He was too far away to hear what the men were saying but judging by the look on John's face their conversation was starting to get heated. He could see the mystery figure smile smugly at John and it appeared that this only served to anger his partner even more.

The scene played out for a few more moments before John turned tail and headed back towards the precinct, the other man must have called out something to him as he saw his partner look over shoulder and say something back. Stubbing out his cigarette he called out to the younger man as he got closer, "That guy giving you grief, John?"

His partner's head shot up in surprise, unaware that he had been watched. "It's nothing, Andy. Just a business associate of Robin's old man trying to muscle in on his estate."

"You sure?" he asked, regarding his partner carefully. "It looked like it was getting heated."

He saw the younger man sigh, "Andy, I can handle it. Please, just leave it." John gave him a tight smile before walking past him back into the precinct.

* * *

**Miami. Present day:**

"I should have pushed him about it. I should have paid more attention." He admonished himself out loud.

His thoughts were disturbed by Calleigh. "Was that the only time you saw him talking to this man?"

He took a long drag from his cigarette, "Yeah. Guess they were more careful about when they met after that." He tapped the cigarette on the ashtray as he spoke, "So the guy he met was an FBI agent, what the hell would he be doing talking to them?"

"It makes sense," Calleigh added, "Horatio kept telling us that he had no choice, that he had to do it. He said that we needed to speak to Agent Collins and that he would explain everything."

"So you think the whole dirty cop thing was a cover, that he was working for the FBI the whole time?"

"It certainly seems like the most reasonable explanation that we have at the moment. We know Horatio would have had to have some pretty good reasons for doing the things he's been accused of." She narrowed her eyes at Andy, her comments directed at him.

He rubbed a tired hand over his face, just as he thought he understood the situation something else would pop up and leaving him doubting himself. He had been so certain of John's guilt, it slowly dawned at him that he could have been wrong about his partner. He suddenly felt awful as the pieces slowly slotted in to place, he knew now that he owed it to his partner to give him the benefit of the doubt but first he wanted answers from the FBI agent who had torn their lives apart.


	25. Chapter 25

**I was hoping to get this up yesterday but ran out of time:**

_He had walked four blocks since making his escape from the abandoned building, making furtive glances over his shoulder in case he had been followed. Giving in to the pain in his ankle he lowered himself onto a porch step, "Least I'm out of that dive," he thought to himself as he took in the neighbourhood. It was by no means a desirable area to live in but it looked slightly higher market than 56__th__ Street. He took a moment to catch his breath and take stock of what had happened, he closed his eyes and hung his head in shame as he recalled the look on Andy's face. "He hates you," he told himself. "Look at what you've become; you're no better than the Malucci's."_

_He sat on the step until he heard the sound of sirens in the distance, he knew it was unlikely that they were coming for him but decided it would be better to be safe than sorry. Moving his right ankle in a circular motion to test its reliability he stood up and carried on down the street and out of sight._

_He had no idea where he was going, he wandered around the streets for hours trying to clear his head and justify his actions over the last few years. Agent Collins had given him the freedom to do whatever he had to prove his loyalty to Frankie and Benny. He surprised himself at the lengths he had gone to keep his cover intact. Coming up to a convenience store he stopped and peered through the window, recognising the owner he put on his game face and walked in._

_The shopkeeper recognised him easily, "Mr Kelly, please come in," the elderly Indian man shuffled nervously to the counter and stood behind it. "I have only just paid my monthly fee, no?" The old man's hand hovered above the register, ready to hand over his hard-earned takings for the day._

_Walking over to the beers and spirits section he gave the shopkeeper a quick glance before picking up a bottle of scotch. "Relax, Mr Aftab. I'm not here for your money." He limped up to the till and placed the bottle on the counter._

_The other man saw the grimace that crossed his face, "You hurt, Mr Kelly? We have aspirin, painkillers of every sort, sir." He waved his hand across the front of the counter._

_"No, thanks. Just the scotch." He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and opened it before the shopkeeper raised his hands up._

_"Mr Kelly, you take it. Please." The elderly man gave him a nervous smile, "I keep you and your bosses happy, yes?" he looked at him hopefully._

_"That you do, Mr Aftab," he responded as he picked the bottle up from the counter. "Much obliged, have a good evening." He left the shop feeling worse than when he had walked in, only a few short years ago he had been helping innocent victims of extortion and now here he was striking fear into a feeble, elderly man and taking advantage of him. He knew appearance and perception was everything if he were to remain under cover, should it be blown he knew that the Malucci's would keep coming after him until they were sure he was dead._

_He finally made it back to his sparsely furnished apartment just as the dark of night had begun to colour the sky above him. He found it ironic that he still lived in Queens, only a few short blocks from where his old apartment was. After his arrest he had moved out, knowing that Lori and Robin would come looking for answers. He knew he wouldn't be able to tell them what they wanted to hear, "It's better this way," he told himself as he closed the door and headed for the kitchen area. He knew the people he had sworn to protect hated him right now, they would not understand why he made the choice that he did. He felt terrible for leaving their lives without so much as a goodbye or a reason why, the less they knew about what he had become involved in the safer they would be. _

_He had kept a close eye on his apartment for the first few weeks since his fall from grace. At first Robin and Lori had come almost every day trying to track him down. Each time he saw them walk from the apartment building in tears he felt another piece of his heart break away and harden him. Even James Martinez had come looking for him, he knew the young detective idolised him and it killed him to see the look of utter devastation on the poor man's face. Slowly the visits of his friends and family became less until they stopped visiting at all. He told himself that they had moved on and forgotten about him, getting on with their lives with him no longer in it. "If only they knew," he whispered out loud. They might have forgotten about him but there was not a day that passed by when he didn't think about them._

_He shrugged his leather jacket off and threw it on the counter, opening a cupboard he reached for a glass tumbler before unscrewing the bottle of scotch and pouring himself a large amount. With a sigh he threw his head back and swallowed the alcohol in one mouthful, grimacing as it burnt the back of his throat. Drinking was meant to numb the pain but it had yet to take effect, picking up the bottle and the glass in one hand he moved into the living area. He sat down wearily in the armchair and poured himself another glass of scotch, he winced at the pain in his ankle as he carelessly pulled his shoes off and threw them across the room._

_He downed his second glass much as he did his first and poured himself another, pinching the bridge of his nose. As he opened his eyes again his gaze fell on the worn and folded photographs on the small table beside him, he picked them up and caressed them softly with his fingertips as if touching them would keep him a part of their lives. A stray tear ran down his cheek as he looked at the pictures of himself with the people he cared about, they all looked so happy and carefree back then. A million miles away from the car crash his life had become._

_Sinking his third glass of scotch he told himself that he would keep drinking until he fell asleep or he reached the end of the bottle, whichever came first._

* * *

He came back to awareness slowly; the last thing he remembered was protesting his innocence to Andy and the young guy that was with him. Everything became a blur after that, his body giving in to exhaustion as his muddled brain struggled to process the random bits of information it had been receiving. He still didn't fully understand what had happened and he hoped that Andy could help him fix the holes in his memory. He was relieved to find that he felt marginally better than he had yesterday, no longer continuously fighting the urge to vomit.

He opened his eyes and looked around the room and was disappointed to find he was alone, the beeping of the monitors the only sound in the room. He felt so tired and alone, much as he had in his dream. "_Except it wasn't a dream," _he told himself, _"You did those things, you made them hate you." _He knew the when and the why but still had next to no idea of things he had done. Suddenly he felt the overwhelming rush of self-loathing and knew he had experienced it before, he had become something he despised and yet had no idea why. He needed to talk to Andy; he needed his help to make sense of what had happened to him to make the other man hate him so.


	26. Chapter 26

**Here's the next part for you, with a tiny little hint of DuCaine...**

They had spent hours in the cramped motel room, piecing together information about Horatio's past. Calleigh had tried calling Agent Collin's number several times during the morning and was left frustrated when each call went to voicemail. "Call me," she commanded as she left a message, "Or I swear I'm going to track you down and make you pay."

Andy raised an eyebrow and turned to Eric, "Wow, she's a ballbreaker. Sure wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of her."

The younger man let out a small laugh, "Trust me, man, you really wouldn't want to piss her off. She's a ballistics expert."

"Yeesh." Andy turned his attention back to Calleigh as she snapped her phone shut, "Still not answering, huh?"

She sat down heavily and sighed in frustration, "This asshole knows what Horatio was messed up in and he's refusing to talk. I swear, if anything happens to Horatio I'm gonna make this son of a bitch wish he was never born."

Eric looked at his watch, "It's visiting hours, anyone want to come with me to the hospital?"

Picking his jacket up, Andy replied, "Sure, me and John need to talk about a few things." Eric smiled it him as he walked across the room, "What?" he asked testily.

"You're not going to need that," he said looking at the jacket in the older man's hand. "We're in Miami now, it's forty degrees in the shade most days."

"I'm from New York, kid. We're hardly the t-shirts and shorts brigade up there, we're lucky if we see the sun more than a couple of times a year."

"Maybe you should spend your retirement down here, a large percentage of the population are elderly, you know." Eric smirked over his shoulder as he opened the door.

"Cute, kid," the burly man replied as he tossed his jacket back on the bed and followed him. "With a mouth like that you'll be lucky to reach pension age." He turned to look at Calleigh, "You coming with us?"

She shook her head, "No. I'm going to head back to the lab; I'm going to find Collins."

Andy gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, "Good luck with that."

* * *

She sat in Horatio's office with a steaming cup of coffee in front of her on the desk. _"It should be Horatio here, not me," _she told herself. Looking round the room she breathed in the essence of its owner, he wasn't one for decorating his office with many knickknacks but the sparsely decorated interior spoke volumes about him. He had told them once that his office was nothing more than a phone and a desk, a means to an end. Even though he was more than qualified to carry out most tasks in the lab he was a reluctant inhabitant of the glass-walled tombs. He was happiest when he was out in the field in the thick of things, searching crimes scenes and chasing suspects. He lived for the thrill of the chase and the challenges that some criminals would bring, his stubbornness and tenacity would mean that he would inevitably always get his man.

He eyes fell upon the only picture in the room, a photo of Horatio and his son, Kyle. She could see the pride he felt for his child in the way he looked at him, Kyle had inherited his mother's hair but his striking blue eyes were the same as those of his father. When Kyle had first appeared on the scene he was nothing more than a scrawny and wayward young boy with a fair sized chip on his shoulder, angry at the world for the hand he had been dealt by fate. Horatio's relationship with his long-lost offspring was difficult at first; the boy seemed to hold contempt and anger at his father more than anything. Despite the way Kyle had treated him he had refused to give up on his son. As time passed Kyle began to form a genuine relationship with his father, Calleigh could see the stable influence Horatio had on the young man's life, his troubles seemingly behind him. Taking a closer look at the photo she noticed how as Kyle had got older how much he looked like his father.

She noticed that apart from that picture on the desk all of the walls were devoid of any hanging frames. She knew first-hand that Horatio had received several commendations for valour in the line of duty but yet there was nothing in the room to show for it. She smiled inwardly; Horatio Caine was not a man to blow his own trumpet. All that was important was keeping the citizens of Miami safe, the awards and commendations meant nothing to him. "Awards are for people who care what others think of them," he had told her once. On more than one occasion he had been forced to attend some awards ceremony or another by the Captain, Calleigh knew he would rather have stuck red hot pokers in his eyes than pose for a picture with the Chief of MDPD with the new award he had been bestowed with. He gritted his teeth and bared it, making an excuse to leave as quickly as possible. "Crime never sleeps," he would tell his disappointed colleagues as he made his way out of sight.

She put her hand on the desk drawer and pulled, fully expecting it to be locked. It took her by surprise when it opened easily, she lifted the jotter pad out and fished around, looking for anything that could help them protect Horatio. She felt guilty for rifling through his personal possessions but told herself that she was doing it for him. There was nothing much in the top drawer except stationary and blank report files, placing the jotter back she closed the drawer and tried the next one. Lifting items up she rooted around until she came across half a dozen folded and worn photos, she brought them out of the drawer to take a closer look.

She recognised the first few, pictures of the team posing together in the lab, another of Marisol and Horatio on their wedding day and finally a photo of Tim Speedle. She smiled as she realised that Speed was incapable of smiling even with a camera thrust in his face. Looking through the other pictures she recognised one of them as being Andy, he and Horatio standing next to each other with their hands in their pockets. "_God he was cute, even back then." _She blushed at her inappropriate thoughts, admonishing herself for even thinking like that at the moment. She didn't recognise the women in the last two photos but judging by the picture of him and Andy they looked to have been taken around about the same time. She felt a pang of jealousy as she saw the intense look of love on his face in one of the pictures.

Taking one last look at the photos she reluctantly placed them back in the drawer, it was obvious that they had been taken out, unfolded and looked at many times over the years. The oldest photos were beginning to fade in colour and were frayed and tattered around the edges and she could just make out the dozens of fingerprints as the ceiling strip light reflected off the glossy paper.

She was just about to pull out her phone and attempt to get in contact when there was a knock at the door, placing the cell phone down she answered. "Come in."

Standing there was a young man in a postal delivery uniform; he stood in the doorway holding a box. He checked the label before speaking, "I have a delivery for a Mr Caine, is this the right office?"

"Yes, he's not here right now. Would you like me to sign for it?"

"That'd be great, Miss." He placed the box down on the desk and handed her his clipboard. She didn't miss the strange look he was giving her.

"Anything else I can help you with," she looked at the name badge on his shirt, "Alfie?"

He gave her a smug smile, "No, Miss. You enjoy the rest of your day, won't you?" He turned his back to her and walked out, shutting the door behind him with a grin.

She studied the box intently, looking for a return address or some kind of clue as to where the package had come from. Not finding anything she lowered her head to the box and placed her ear against it, no noise emanated from the box and so she was fairly sure that whatever it was it wasn't a bomb. Putting on latex gloves she pulled a penknife from her purse and began to gently cut through the tape, she carefully lifted the flaps of the box and peered inside.

Her eyes widened as she looked at the contents, the box was full of photos of everyone at the lab. CSI's, lab staff, detectives, anyone that Horatio had come into contact with recently. She became increasingly alarmed as she realised that not only were they being watched in the lab but that they had been followed at their homes and as they went about their personal business. There were hundreds of photos but one caught her attention more than the others, a picture of Horatio and herself at a crime scene. He was looking at her and smiling affectionately as she held out something to him, scrawled over the top in messy handwriting was the message:

**_Roses are red, violets are blue. You better run, pig, because we're coming for you."_**


	27. Chapter 27

**Sorry about the rhyme in the last chapter, poetry is not my strong point ;-)**

He was woken by a soft knocking at the door, running a hand over his face he croaked a, "Come in."

As the door opened he saw the young Cuban man smiling at him. "Hey man, you up for a visit?"

He gave the younger man an awkward smile, "Sure. It's Eric, isn't it?"

The smile on Eric's face faltered, he hoped somewhat ruefully that Horatio would remember him and the years they had spent together working at the lab and in the field. "That's right, I've got someone here to see you," he said as he walked further in to the room.

Horatio's face registered his relief as Andy stood awkwardly in the doorway. "You came back."

He shuffled in to the room and shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. "Yeah. Maybe I was a little hard on you before."

Horatio tried to lift himself higher in the bed and growled in frustration as his body failed him, still weak from the fever. He smiled his thanks at Eric as the young man adjusted the bed for him. "Andy, I'm so sorry. I still can't remember most of it but I've had a few things come back to me." His head dropped in shame as he recalled the fateful day at the abandoned building, "I remember pulling a gun on you, I have no idea how I ended up there but I swear I would never hurt you."

"I know, John. We've been doing some digging; you weren't on the Malucci payroll, were you?" He sat down in the chair by the bed and studied his old partner intently, he heard him take a shuddering breath. The pained look on his face was not an expression even the most talented of actors could fake.

"They threatened you, everyone I cared about. I realised I couldn't keep you all safe. Some guy from the FBI came to visit me in hospital, said he'd make sure you were all protected if I did what they wanted. I didn't want to do but I didn't have a choice." His eyes were pleading with Andy to understand.

"Why didn't you come to me, or Fancy? We could have dealt with it together." His voice was barely a whisper.

"After the whole Marino situation I knew it would be safer to keep my mouth shut. The Malucci's took over what was left of their empire; they had twice as many people on their books. Getting anyone else involved would only have got them killed."

"But the things you did, John. You made me believe you were dirty, how could you do that?"

He searched his mind but couldn't force the forgotten memories to return; he shook his head and closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath of frustration. "I can't remember what I did, I was hoping that maybe you could help me with that." He looked at Andy, bracing himself for the rejection he knew was to come.

Andy shifted in his seat, "I'm not sure raking up the past is such a good idea. Maybe it's better you don't know the finer details."

He was taken by surprise at the vehemence in the red head's voice. "No. I have to know what I did; I have to know why the Malucci's are after me. Maybe when this is over I can make it up to the people I hurt, starting with you."

His old partner's piercing gaze was beginning to make him feel quite uncomfortable; he couldn't deny the sincerity in the other man's voice. "Let's just deal with the Malucci's first and we'll figure the rest out later, okay?"

* * *

After taking the package that had been delivered this morning and handing it to Ryan, Calleigh made her way back to Horatio's office. Her colleague had given her a puzzled looking when she instructed him to dust the cardboard and packing tape for prints or DNA, not understanding why he was being asked to study an empty box. Calleigh had taken the photos and placed them in an envelope in Horatio's desk drawer figuring that it would be best not to get anyone else involved for the time being.

_"This is getting to become a habit," _she told herself as she made herself comfortable behind Horatio's desk. She had often thought about promotions and one day becoming the head of the crime lab, _"Not like this, I'm only running the lab until Horatio comes back." _He was the focal point of the lab and the person that everyone looked to in the team for guidance, a crime lab without him in it seemed unthinkable. She knew that he would be reluctant to give up his position when he eventually reached retirement age, this building and the people in it were his life. He would not be a man who would take to retirement easily, somehow she had a feeling he would rather have been killed in the line of duty than grow old gracefully on a golf course out on the Keys. The thought of anything happening to him sent a shiver down her spine, he would be very old and quite possibly very cranky by the time he eventually met his maker if she had anything to do with it.

Knowing that it would probably be pointless she pulled out her cell phone and rang the reluctant FBI agent, after a number of rings he eventually answered.

"This is getting quite tiresome, Miss Duquesne."

"Well maybe if you answered my questions I wouldn't have to keep ringing you."

Agent Collins sighed dramatically, "Would it stop you ringing if I did?"

"That depends on if you give me the answers that I want." Her voice was stern, not wanting to show him how desperate she was for a good solid lead on Horatio's case.

"I can answer your questions but I can't promise you'll like the answers."

"Will you come to the station and meet with me?"

He laughed derisively, "All that would do is paint a target on my back too, I know the Malucci's have eyes on your building. I'm not willing to take that risk."

"But you let Horatio take it! He stuck his neck on the line for you; you can't just leave him hanging like this." She could feel her frustration begin to get the better of her.

"He knew what he was getting himself into, Miss Duquesne. He knew the risks that were involved. Anyway, we're deviating from the point. If we meet it will be on my terms, not yours."

"And what are your terms, Agent Collins?" she spat his name in disgust.

"I will call you with a time and location; you're to meet me there. Alone." His tone signalled that the terms were not up for debate.

"You're just going to leave me hanging too? Horatio had a delivery today, a package full of photographs of everyone at the station. I know it was from the Malucci's, they left a message for him."

"That's why I need to make sure the location for our meeting is secure, if I get even the smallest inclination that you've been followed or you haven't come alone then all deals are off, you'll never see or hear from me again. Is that understood?"

She took a deep breath and ran a hand through her long, blonde hair. "I guess I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"No." With that the line went dead, leaving Calleigh to work out exactly what she was going to ask the indifferent agent when they finally met face to face.


	28. Chapter 28

**I'm hoping to get two chapters out today:**

Pulling up in the underground parking lot Calleigh turned off the Hummer's lights and killed the engine. Slowly taking her seatbelt off, she looked around for a black sedan car with the number plate that Agent Collins had given her. Spotting the vehicle she quietly left hers and quickly assessed her surroundings, satisfied for the moment that she was not walking in to a trap she made her way across the parking lot.

As she reached his car the window came down, "Glad you could make it, Miss Duquesne. Get in." With that the window came back up.

Taking one final glance around she reluctantly got in the car, "This is all a bit cloak and dagger isn't it?"

He looked at her and raised an eyebrow, "Considering what has happened over the last few days you would think it prudent to be careful, wouldn't you?"

His arrogant and dismissive attitude towards her was beginning to rile her. "Why have you agreed to meet with me? Why now?"

He sighed dramatically, "You've been ringing me day and night. My wife thinks I'm having an affair." She snorted in response. "Something amusing, Miss Duquesne?"

"Only the thought of an asshole like you being married. I pity the poor woman."

"Well it's a good thing we're not here to talk about my personal life. But speaking of that you do remind me of our old dog, Buster." He gave her an amused look.

She willed herself not to take the bait but couldn't stop herself. "Really? And why is that?"

He glanced out of the driver's window as he recalled his deceased canine companion. "He was a feisty little fella, a Terrier. Always sniffing around and sticking his nose in everywhere. Once he got the scent of something there was no stopping him, didn't matter what we did or how much we warned him that little bugger wouldn't come back until he was satisfied that he'd followed the trail as far as he could." He turned to look at Calleigh, "One day his nose led him to sniff out our new next door neighbours, he'd dug under the fence and made it in to their back yard. He came face to face with their Doberman who didn't take too kindly to Buster being on his turf. I'm sure you can work out the rest." He let his words hang.

She narrowed her eyes at him, "Is that some kind of threat?"

"No, Miss Duquesne. More of a cautionary tale, really."

"You're telling me to back off; you know that's not going to happen, right?"

"Yes, I get the picture. You're not going to give up; I'm merely warning you that you may have bitten off more than you can chew."

"I'll be the judge of that, tell me what you know."

"Where would you like me to start?"

"How about telling me who these Malucci people are. I need to know what we're up against."

He smiled at her, almost feeling sorry for her. "It's going to take a lot more than you and the Cuban boy to stand up to the Malucci's. They've been quietly gathering members for the last few years, enough for a small army. You'll be badly outnumbered."

"I don't care. Tell me about them." She was resolute and defiant, she would stand her ground until she had the information that she wanted.

"Fine. Back in the early 90's there were a number of turf wars between the local crime families in New York. You're lieutenant and his partner had already caused a stir with one of the major mob bosses, Angelo Marino. To cut a long story short, Marino was put out of the picture permanently." At her look he added, "You'll have to talk to his old partner at the NYPD about that."

"What happened next?"

"With Marino out of the picture it left a gap in the market, soon rival families were fighting over the spoils. After a few months of bloodshed the Malucci's finally gained control of Marino's estate, so to speak. Frankie and Benny Malucci became the strongest mob bosses in the tri-state area; they had control over more ground than any other organisation."

"What we're they involved in?" She had already seen what they were capable of, she could imagine the lengths they would have gone to protect what they claimed as their own.

"Extortion, drug running, stolen goods, prostitution. You name it; they had their hand in it. Whatever was illegal and made them money was fine by them."

Her heart sank, she had gathered from the little information that Horatio had remembered that he had been working undercover to infiltrate the organisation. What had he done in order to prove his loyalty to these monsters? "Why didn't you shut them down? You're the FBI." Her tone was almost condescending, trying to rile him.

"We had tried many times. It didn't matter how many members we arrested, five more would pop up to take their place. Frankie and Benny were too smart to get their hands dirty themselves, they always left it to the underlings to take the rap. With their dirty money they could hire the best lawyers money could buy, nothing ever stuck on those two. We knew we needed to get them bang to rights if we were going to take the whole organisation down."

"How did Horatio get involved in all of this, he was just an NYPD detective wasn't he?"

"He just happened to be in the right place at the right time, I'd had a team following anyone who left the Malucci headquarters, hoping that they would lead us to some of the places they were storing their drugs. It just so happened that night that a group of their thugs had an encounter with your colleague."

"What happened, you arrested them. Right?" She stared at him, waiting for his response.

"Your friend and his partner had been sticking their nose into Malucci business, causing them trouble. Frankie sent three of his finest to teach your man a lesson, warned him to keep away." He pinched his nose and let a deep breath out, "He never did know when to quit, always so stubborn. The thugs had a message from Frankie, asking him to consider working for them. They used his loved ones to threaten him, said they would finish off everyone he cared about if he didn't do what they said."

"If I know Horatio, he told them where to go." She mused out loud.

"Yes he did. That was when the heavies decided to teach him a lesson; they gave him a right pasting and left him for dead outside his apartment block."

He was so blasé about it, as if recalling the highlights of the latest college football game. "And your men just stood back and let it happen?!"

"It served a purpose, Miss Duquesne. When my team reported back I knew we had the perfect opportunity to have a man on the inside. Besides, my men called for a bus. He was alright, eventually."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing, how could this man be so callous about another man's life? Horatio had risked everything for him and yet Agent Collins seemed to lack any sense of remorse over her beloved red head's current situation. When the Malucci's had been dealt with she would have her own revenge on the FBI agent, she promised herself.


	29. Chapter 29

**Here's where things start to get interesting...**

"How did you convince Horatio to work for you?"

"It took a little gentle persuasion." He smiled before continuing, "I went to visit him while he was convalescing in hospital, I made him aware that he couldn't keep everyone around him safe and that maybe he needed a little…..help."

Her eyes narrowed at him once more, "What did you do?"

"I did what any good agent would do, monitored my target and used his weaknesses against him. I had instructed my team to follow his girlfriend around for a few days to give the impression that someone was watching her. She fell straight into the trap and went to visit him the very next day and told him what had happened. I gave it a few days to let the seeds of doubt grow in his mind, and then I went to see him again. I found him much more….cooperative, shall we say."

"You bastard! You made him think those thugs were stalking the people he cared about. How could you?" She could feel her blood pressure rising at Agent Collins words.

"It would have happened eventually, all I did was speed up the process a little. Thankfully your man began to see things my way; I gave him my word that his friends and family would be protected."

"So that was it, he just agreed to work for you?"

"Reluctantly he agreed he knew it would be for the best. I advised him that it would be better to get his colleagues to close the case on his attack if he wanted to keep them safe." He let out a small laugh, "He always was so righteous, he told me he hated lying to people. Trouble was, the longer he spent lying to people the better he got at it. He was pretty good at playing the two sides off of each other."

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1994:**

He had been released from the hospital three days ago, it still hurt like hell to move but the pain lessened slightly with each day that passed. Andy had driven him home from the hospital and tried to stay with him the first night but the older man's constant hovering had irritated him to the point that he had shouted at his partner to leave and let him get some sleep. Andy had looked hurt at his uncharacteristic outburst and mumbled something about being ungrateful before leaving him to his own devices.

Andy hadn't called or visited since and he felt deeply guilty for snapping at him, even with the painkillers he was finding it extremely hard to sleep. Visions of Andy, Lori or Robin being murdered by the Malucci's flew through his mind. Even though Collins had given his word that they would be protected he couldn't help worrying what would happen to them if this whole undercover sting blew up in his face. He wasn't worried about himself, only the people around him. They didn't deserve to get caught up in his problems.

Robin had visited on a daily basis, cooking and cleaning for him at the same time as giving him pitying looks. Several times she had pleaded with him to stay with her so that she could look after him properly but each time he politely declined her offer. "I'm fine, Robin. In a few days I'll be back to work anyway."

It was meant to be reassuring but she frowned at his statement. "That was what put you in hospital in the first place, Johnny. Can't your lieutenant put you on desk duty for a while?"

He balked at her words, "No. No way am I riding the desk for the rest of my career."

She held her hand out and placed it on his arm as he lent back on his sofa, "I didn't mean permanently. Just until they catch the bastards that did this to you."

He looked up at her and saw the tears in her eyes, threatening to fall. As far as Robin was concerned he had been attacked because of his work on a case even though he had let Andy believe he had been caught in a married woman's bed. Trying to keep the lies straight in his head was becoming taxing work, he hoped that he didn't slip up and let the cat out of the bag. He placed a hand on top of hers and tried to reassure her, "I'll be fine out on the streets; I'll have Andy with me. Besides, those punks know where I live anyway, what's to stop them from coming round and finishing what they started?"

She gasped, shocked at what he had said. "That's why you should come and stay with me; you shouldn't be on your own at the moment."

"Robin, just leave it." His tone was unnecessarily harsh, causing her to break down in to tears. Her constant nagging had begun to grate on him, combined with the stress he was already under his overworked mind couldn't handle all of it at once.

Pulling her hand away she rubbed at her eyes before stalking over to his front door, picking up her purse she looked at him sadly. "Fine, have it your way. You need to decide whether you want me in your life or not. You can't just pick me up and put me down when you feel like it."

He felt terrible for hurting her feelings; he hung his head but said nothing, wincing as she slammed the door shut behind her. He knew it was for the best, he needed time alone to think about how he was going to keep the charade up.

* * *

He must have closed his eyes and fallen asleep at some point, he was woken by a knocking at his door. Figuring it might be Robin and sensing a chance to apologise to her he careful lifted himself from the sofa, wincing as he moved, and shuffled over to his front door. His face fell when he saw Agent Collins standing on the other side as he opened it, "What the hell do you want?" he snapped as he ran a hand through his hair.

The other man regarded him with an amused look on his face, "Really, is that any way to talk to your new friend?"

"You're not my friend. Have you come here to goad me or was there something you wanted?" He narrowed his eyes at the other man before checking the hallway outside his apartment.

"Worried we'll be seen, Detective Kelly? Don't worry, my men are stationed all around, the coast is clear for now. Your lovely girlfriend left some time ago, in tears I may add." He sniffed derisively, "Are you going to let me in? Wouldn't want your neighbours to start gossiping would we?"

He stood back and reluctantly let the other man in to his apartment, "What have you come here for?"

Agent Collins made himself comfortable on the sofa, straightening out his black overcoat as he sat down. "Well, not for your hosting skills, obviously." He ran a finger along the coffee table with his gloved hands. "Have you had any contact from our friends the Malucci's?"

Standing awkwardly by the kitchen counter he answered, "I had an envelope shoved under the door yesterday. It said that my attendance was required tomorrow on the corner 56th and Lexington, 10am sharp."

"Good." The other man answered as he rubbed a piece of lint between his fingers, "You'll be there I take it?"

He folded his arms across his chest and winced as one of his hands came in to contact with the wound on his abdomen. "I don't get a choice, do I?"

"Not really, no. I'll have some of my men watching from a discreet distance. Listen to what Frankie and his brother have to say, I'll be in contact with you so you can report back."

"And when will that be? What are you expecting me to do, play nice with those goons?"

"Yes, Detective Kelly. I want you to become bosom buddies with them, do whatever it takes to convince them you're committed."

"What if they don't believe me?"

The other man stood and walked across to the window, gazing outside as he spoke. "Then you'll have to learn quickly how to lie, from what I've seen so far you're already quite good at it."

"How am I supposed to get in contact with you?"

"You don't, I'll contact you."

"So I'm just supposed to sit around with my finger up my ass waiting for you to call?" His voice rose in anger.

"Detective Kelly, that temper will get you in trouble one day," Collins admonished him. "Just do as I ask and I will take care of the rest. If you do get caught I don't want this coming back to me."

"So you're going to let me put my ass on the line and you're just going to sit back and watch? What if my cover gets blown, what happens then?"

"That would be…..unfortunate. I'd have to find someone else to replace you; I hope for both our sakes that you've got the balls to pull this off."

"And if I don't?"

"It will be your funeral, Detective Kelly. Not mine."

With that the other man left the apartment without looking back. Leaning back against the kitchen counter he ran a weary hand over his face, he came to the startling realisation that he was stuck in a never-ending nightmare and that in he was in it alone.


	30. Chapter 30

**Here's the next part for you:**

**Present day. Miami:**

"What did Horatio have to do to convince the Malucci's he was on their side?" She hated asking, she really didn't want to know the answer but knew she had to ask if she was going to help Horatio get out of the mess he was in.

Agent Collins looked at her and smiled smugly, "They sent him a message a few days after he was released from the hospital, inviting him to an informal chat."

"I take it he went?"

"He didn't have much choice, Miss Duquesne. He insisted on full immunity from any crimes he had to commit to keep his cover intact. Even I was surprised at what lengths he went to."

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1994:**

It had been several days since his meeting with the Malucci's, the meeting had unnerved him more than he cared to admit. Mainly because he surprised himself at how easy the lies came off of his tongue. He had managed to convince Frankie that his goons had beaten some sense into him; he told the brothers that the safety of his loved ones was more important to him than his shield. He shocked himself when he also told him that the extra money would come in handy.

Benny was not so easy to convince, the younger brother kept eyeing him suspiciously, giving him odd looks. His older brother Frankie insisted on a show of faith from him, wanting to see how just how committed he was to their cause. Inwardly he balked at what they were asking him to do; it went against his very nature as a cop. Putting on an air of bravado that he didn't feel he simply nodded his head and told the brothers that he would do as they asked, but not before asking for a down payment for his work first. Frankie laughed and patted him on the shoulder and told him he liked his style and even Benny raised an eyebrow at his remark.

He left the meeting feeling sick to his stomach, he felt dirty and used. He made his way home quickly, shutting the door behind him and leaning on it heavily. The bruises on his face were fading fast but the mental anguish at leading a double life was weighing heavy on his heart, "_And it's only just started, it's going to get a hell of a lot worse," _told himself as he closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wooden door.

He stood there for a long time, playing over and over the lies that he had already told to the people around him. After a while he couldn't take it anymore, he made his way over to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Taking a long, hard look at himself he hung his head in shame. He winced as he took his shirt off and ran his hand lightly over the bandage on his abdomen before getting under the steaming hot water and hoping to wash the guilt away.

The shower didn't work, he got out feeling worse than he had when he entered, dressing as quickly as he could he made his way to the kitchen. Opening the liquor cabinet he picked up the first bottle he saw and poured himself a large measure of  
scotch, eyeing the pills on the counter he tapped two out on to his hand and threw them back along with another mouthful of alcohol. Trudging to the sofa he dropped down and covered his eyes with his hands.

* * *

He pushed the thoughts of that day from his mind as he sat at his desk in the squad room, he'd been back at work almost a week. He accepted the smiles, pats on the back and well wishes of his colleagues, plastering on a smile and answering their questions as vaguely as possible. They hadn't questioned him too hard about the incident and he hoped that he had given them the impression that everything was fine. He loosened the tie around his neck and undid his top button; it was an unusually hot day in Manhattan. The sun was shining fiercely in the bright blue sky and the humidity was making the heat of the day almost unbearable. He tried to concentrate on filling the report out in front of him. He and Andy had taken a trip to Lower Manhattan to check out a crime scene, on the way over his partner had starting asking him questions he was finding uncomfortable to answer.

"Anything up, kid?" Andy asked him, when he didn't reply his friend tried again. "John, you listening to me?"

The voice was louder this time and shook him from his daydream. "Sorry, Andy?" He mentally admonished himself for being caught daydreaming, his mind focussed on the upcoming show of faith he would have to provide the Malucci's in a few days' time.

"Is something on your mind? We can talk about it if there is," His partner was a good detective; he'd taught John everything he knew. It was obvious that Andy wasn't going to drop it until he was satisfied he knew what was going on. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and fiddled with his tie, loosening it slightly.

"Nothing's the matter. I'm fine Andy" He hoped that his partner would take him at his word and leave it there; he glanced at him and saw the wary look he was being given, "Honestly." He plastered on a smile and looked out of the windscreen at the road ahead.

Still Andy badgered him, "If it's about what happened Fancy can set you up with an appointment with the department shrink if you want."

He wasn't expecting that response, "No, definitely not." His tone was harsh but Andy's comment had taken him by surprise, he let out a long breath as he tried to regain his composure. "There's nothing wrong. I'm fine." He gave his partner a look that signalled that he didn't want to discuss the matter further; he could feel his temper rise. He didn't want to fall out with Andy but he was finding his constant questions increasingly irritating. It seem as if his friend had got the message as he shut his open mouth and returned his eyes to the road as they continued their journey in silence.

* * *

He looked down at the report on his desk; he had been working on it for the past two hours and had got no further than the first page. If he didn't start sorting his act out people were going to start to notice the changes in him. The beeping of his pager made him jump, he looked around quickly to see if anyone had noticed. He picked up the phone on his desk to access the message; his heart sank as he listened to it. Grabbing his suit jacket from the back of his chair he made his way out of the squad room and out of the precinct.

He trudged wearily down the steps and looked to his left; the black sedan car was waiting further down the street. He walked in the direction of the parked car; he heard Andy call out to him but paid him no attention as he continued to walk. As he reached the car Agent Collins climbed out, dressed in a dark suit and smiling smugly at him he would have given anything to punch the shit-eating grin off of the other man's face. "I got your message," he said as he regarded the FBI agent, "What do you want?"

"I'd like to know how you're little chat with the Malucci's went."

"I did what you wanted, made them think I'd join them." He answered petulantly.

"It was that simple? They just took your word for it? The brothers aren't that naïve." The other man's tone was condescending and it began to irritate him.

"Of course they didn't. They insisted on a show of faith, they gave me instructions to make sure a piece of evidence goes missing in the case of one of their thugs."

"Interesting," Collins smiled. "And you'll be able to accomplish this, I take it?"

He shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling ashamed of what he had agreed to do for the sake of his cover. "It shouldn't be too hard; Medavoy and Martinez are handling the case. I'll offer my expertise on the subject and give them a helping hand."

"Detective Kelly, if I didn't know you better I would say that you're enjoying this. You're definitely cut out for this kind of work, I had no idea you could be so devious."

He placed his hands on his hips, angered that Collins could accuse him of enjoying any of this. He was lying to the people he cared about and was neck-deep in an undercover operation that he wanted no part of, he was hating every minute of it. "This might all be a game to you, Collins. This is my life you're playing with."

"You make it sound like you mean something, you're expendable, Detective Kelly, and you'd do well to remember that." The other man smiled at him smugly.

He knew he had to walk away before he lost his temper; the urge to knock the pompous agent on his ass was becoming hard to resist. He turned his back on him and walked back up the street, he stopped as Collins called out to him.

"You should be careful who you turn your back on, John. You're going to need a friend like me."

He knew that he was being goaded but he felt his frayed temper snap. "Screw you!" he shouted over his shoulder before he stalked back towards the precinct. He had almost made it to the steps when Andy stopped him.

The older man stubbed his cigarette out before asking him, "That guy giving you grief, John?"

_"Oh crap," _he thought, _"Andy saw the whole thing, what if he heard what we were talking about?" _Thinking on his feet he replied with the first thing that came to his mind, "It's nothing, Andy. Just a business associate of Robin's old man trying to muscle in on his estate."

Again his partner wouldn't leave things well enough alone, "You sure, it looked like it was getting a little heated."

Andy looked at him as if staring at him would make him open up, it had the opposite effect. He sighed tiredly before answering, "Andy, I can handle it. Please, just leave it." He gave his partner a tight smile and walked past him before the other man had a chance to say anything else.

As he walked back up the stairs to the squad room he knew he and Agent Collins would need to find somewhere safer to meet in future, he couldn't risk his colleagues placing the pieces of the puzzle together.


	31. Chapter 31

**I forgot to wish my American readers a Happy President's Day yesterday, please accept my belated good wishes!**

**Miami. Present day:**

"He did what they asked then?" Calleigh asked as she sat in back in her seat and tried to digest the information Agent Collins had been giving her.

"Yes, he did it quite well too. His clueless colleagues at the precinct had no idea what he'd done."

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1994:**

He kept replaying his conversation with the Malucci brothers over and over again in his mind. One of their 'associates' had been implicated in a shooting of a corner store owner and was the police's prime suspect. Most of what Medavoy and Martinez had was circumstantial and now the hunt was on for the murder weapon. Without admitting it outright Frankie had made it obvious that Chaz Petrelli was the shooter and that if found the gun would have his prints on it.

The job seemed easy enough, find the murder weapon before his colleagues did, the trick was to do it without being caught. He sat at his desk pretending to fill in paperwork all the while listening to the conversation between his colleagues.

"I'm telling you, Greg. I know Petrelli's good for this hit; we had tabs on him back in anti-crime. He's a nasty piece of work." James Martinez said, taking a sip of coffee as he sat back down at his desk.

"I hear you but all we've got is a couple of shaky witnesses, we need something solid before the Malucci's 'persuade' them to change their minds."

"We gotta find the gun, and then we'll have him bang to rights."

Sensing the opportunity to interject he got up from his desk and walked over to his colleagues. "How's it going on your shooting, find anything yet?" He asked as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"All we've got is circumstantial, nothing that's going to stick to this guy, John."

"You wanna hand? Andy's off looking at cars with his son, I've not got anything going on." He willed them to take the bait, he knew Martinez hero-worshipped him and used it to his advantage. "You know, James, putting a guy like Petrelli away will really put you on the map here. You'll be making a name for yourself if you get one of the Malucci gang bang to rights."

"You sure, we wouldn't want to put you out." Martinez replied uncertainly.

He smiled at the younger man, "It's fine, I want to help. You got any leads on where we might find the weapon?"

Medavoy jumped in, "We're just waiting on the warrant to search Petrelli's last known address."

"Ok, let me know when it comes through and I'll help you with the search." He walked back to his desk and returned to his paperwork, all the while hating himself for what he was about to do.

Time dragged but by mid-afternoon the warrant for Petrelli's home had arrived, his colleagues had offered him a ride with them but he declined, preferring to spend the journey on his own. _"It'll be much easier to hide the gun that way." _He shook his head, disgusted in himself for even thinking like that.

Meeting Medavoy and Martinez outside the apartment building he checked his service weapon and put on a bullet-proof vest. He banged on the door, "NYPD, open up. We've got a warrant to search these premises." They were met with silence, he thumped harder on the door this time, "Open up, Petrelli, or we'll kick the door down."

Moments later movement was heard, the three detectives placed their hands on their guns bracing themselves. They were greeted by the sight of the half-dressed and half-asleep Chaz Petrelli. Standing at 6'3 and at least 300 pounds he was a fearsome sight, his shaven head and multitude of tattoos only served to reinforce the impression that he was as mean as he looked. "What do you fairies want?"

Martinez stepped forward holding out the warrant, "We've come to search the premises. Stand back please."

Petrelli's eyes narrowed, "And what if I don't, you three ladies going to make me?"

John stood straighter, trying match heights with Petrelli. He knew his slight build would be no match for the man-mountain in front of him but he bustled his way through anyway. Catching the larger man by surprise he barged his way into the apartment, he turned and smiled at him. "There, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

The other two detectives followed him in as they split up to search the rooms, taking the bedroom he hunted high and low for the murder weapon, checking every conceivable hiding place he could think of. Ten minutes later he came up empty, he let his head drop and forced himself to think where else it could be. His attention was soon caught by shouting coming from the lounge.

"This is a set up," Petrelli shouted, "You planted that gun, it's not mine."

He walked out and saw Martinez grab his suspect's arms and pulled them behind his back to cuff them. "Tell it to the judge, right now you're under arrest."

He didn't hear the rest of what his colleague said as Petrelli was read his rights. He couldn't hear anything above the thumping of his heart pounding through his ears. He hadn't found the weapon before they had, what the hell was he going to do now? Once it was logged into evidence and processed there would be no way to stop Petrelli going down for the murder.

He drove back to the precinct in a panic, wracking his brains for what to do. The Malucci's would not take kindly to him falling at the first hurdle and he had already taken money from them. It didn't matter that he had handed it straight to Collins, Frankie and Benny were expecting him to come good for them, he hated to think what would happen if he didn't.

Sitting at his desk he waited for his colleagues to return with their suspect and the evidence, Petrelli was not the kind of man who would roll over and confess and it gave John a small sense of hope that he could still intervene somehow. As the afternoon wore on Medavoy and Martinez were getting nowhere with their questioning, most of the other detectives had left for the day as evening quickly approached. He sat in wait alone in the squad room, biding his time.

Finally his colleagues stopped their interview for a break, bringing the boxed weapon out with them; Martinez dropped it on his desk and sat down wearily.

He looked across to the younger man, "He's not budging I take it?"

"Nope, just keeps stonewalling us. Once we get that gun checked out I know we're going to find his fingerprints on it."

He stood up and walked over to his colleague's desk, "Why don't you and Greg take a break and get out of here for a little while. Go and grab a coffee or something."

"That'd be great but we can't leave this unattended." Martinez gestured to the gun.

"Don't worry about that, I'm going to be here for another hour or so filling these reports in that Andy's lumbered me with."

"Are you sure?"

Once again he took advantage of the younger man and his inexperience, "Go, James. I've got your back." His colleague smiled gratefully and left the squad room, he left it another couple of minutes just to be safe before carefully removing the semi-automatic pistol from the box and wiping it thoroughly with his handkerchief and then placing it back again.

He sat back at his desk and sighed in relief, it didn't matter that they had the murder weapon now. Without Petrelli's prints it couldn't be linked to the thug or the Malucci's and it looked as though he had just bought his way in to the organisation. He only hoped his friends and God would forgive him if they ever found out what he had done.


	32. Chapter 32

**I did intend to get a chapter posted yesterday but I ran out of time.**

**Miami. Present day:**

She let out a long breath, she couldn't believe that Horatio would knowingly tamper with evidence in a case; it just wasn't something he would do willingly. She swallowed deeply and asked in a shaky voice, "Did the Malucci's take the bait?"

Collins smiled at her again, "They were very impressed. Without Petrelli's prints on the murder weapon there was no direct link to him or the Malucci's and the shooting. The witnesses were 'persuaded' to change their statements and the case fell apart, as far as I know it still hasn't been solved to this day." He absent-mindedly picked a piece of lint from his trousers and flicked it away.

His attitude angered her, "How can you sit there and pretend that what Horatio did was ok?"

Sighing, he turned his head and looked at her. "He must have passed on his self-righteous attitude to you too. Instead of concentrating on maintain his cover he spent more time bleating at me about how he couldn't bear betraying his colleagues. I humoured him for a while but soon it began to get quite tiresome."

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1994:**

After wiping Petrelli's prints from the gun he returned to his desk and waited for his colleagues to return from their break, when he saw Medavoy open the gate and enter the squad room he stood and picked his jacket up from the back of the chair. "Giving up for the night, John?"

"Yep. Got a phone call from an old friend, seemed like a much better idea than sitting here filing reports," he picked the papers up, "This crap can wait until the morning."

Greg smiled at him as they passed each other, "Have a good night then."

Nodding his head he quickly made his way down the stairs and out of the precinct, only when he got into his car did he let out a shaky breath. He couldn't believe what he had done; deliberately tampering with evidence went against everything he stood for as a cop and as a man. He was trapped, being made to do things that he hated and the only thing that kept him focused was keeping the people he cared about safe.

Parking up outside his apartment building he realised that he had no memory of the journey, his mind obviously elsewhere. Looking up he could see a light on in his apartment, his heart thumped wildly as he considered who it could be in his home. He placed a hand on his right hip and was relieved to find that he still had his service weapon with him. He made his way silently into the building and slowly climbed the stairs to his apartment, as he inched closer he readied himself with his weapon. He placed an ear to the door and listened for sounds of movement. Holding his gun in his right hand and raising his other to the door handle he took a deep breath before throwing the door open. "Stay where you are!" he shouted as he stood in the doorway, clearing the room as he sighted his gun. He turned quickly in the direction of the kitchen as a figure came out of the dimly lit area and gasped.

"John, what the hell are you doing?"

He blinked a few times to make sure he wasn't seeing things before he spoke, "Robin, what are you doing here?" he growled as he re-holstered his weapon and ran a shaky hand through his hair.

She flinched at his harsh tone as she wiped her hands on a dish towel, "I thought I'd surprise you and make you dinner. Obviously that was a mistake." She gave him a dirty look and through the towel down before grabbing for her purse on the counter.

He held his hands up and tried to placate her, "Wait, I'm sorry. It's just been a long day; I've got a lot on my mind at the moment."

Her expression softened as she placed her purse back down, "Go and have a shower, dinner will be ready when you're finished."

He nodded his head and did as she asked; the shower seemed to help get his ragged nerves under control. When he saw the light on in his apartment he had visions of Agent Collins or one of the Malucci crew lying in wait for him. He then realised that Robin could have been in real danger if they had turned up, he would have to make her see that her un-announced visits were not a good idea.

He returned to the lounge in a pair of old jeans and a t-shirt as he dried his hair with a towel. She walked up and kissed him as she ran her hands through his still-damp hair. He tried his best to reciprocate her enthusiasm but was unable to shake the thoughts of something horrific happening to her whilst he was powerless to do anything to stop it.

She pulled away slightly disappointed and couldn't hide the look of hurt from her face. She made her way quickly to the kitchen and brought out two steaming plates of Irish stew and dumplings. He smiled gratefully at her as he sat down and she poured them both a glass of wine. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Her voice made him jump slightly; he shook his head before he spoke. "It's just some hassle at work, nothing to worry about."

She placed her glass down and looked at him intently and it began to make him feel uncomfortable, "I worry about you, John. You have been the same since…..you know…" her words trailed off, he knew exactly what she meant.

He picked up his fork and placed a mouthful of food in his mouth, grateful for the distraction and the time it gave him to think of a suitable response. "I'm over that now, it's fine. We've got the brass breathing down our necks about our solve rate, Fancy's putting the heat on all of us."

Her gaze softened again and he was glad she decided not to push it any further, "You would talk to me though? If the attack is still bothering you."

He tried to give her a reassuring smile, "Yes, I would."

Robin let the subject drop and they continued to eat their meal whilst discussing other things, he tried to nod his head and smile in all the right places but he couldn't help his thoughts drifting back to his actions earlier in the day. A few more glasses of wine later and Robin's presence became intoxicating; he gave into his need for physical contact and fell into bed with her, using her to take his mind off of what had been troubling for weeks now. He found in her a willing participant but as he lay next to her and his breathing returned to normal he felt disgusted with himself, sure their lovemaking had kept his demons at bay for a short while but he still didn't feel any better for releasing his pent-up emotions.

Robin laid a hand on his chest as she spoke huskily, "Wow. That was intense."

He looked down at her and kissed the top of her head, "I'm sorry, I guess I just lost control a bit."

Raising her head to look at him she leant forwards and kissed him deeply, "Don't ever apologise, that was great."

He smiled at her as she lay her head back down on her chest, he waited until she heard her breathing even out before he closed his eyes and felt a wave of shame wash over him. He had used her to try to make himself feel better but all it had done was make him feel worse, he was no better than the people who were using him.

Eventually his eyes became heavy and sleep claimed him, it wasn't long before he was plagued with visions of the woman sleeping in his arms being needlessly slaughtered as she waited for him to return home. Visions of the Malucci's abusing and torturing her before leaving her dead in his bed to find taunted him. He found himself beginning to panic as he opened his mouth to scream but nothing would come out, he could feel the walls begin to close in around him.

He woke up with a start, gasping for breath and holding the recently-healed wound on his abdomen, the muscles around it protesting at the movements his heavy breathing had caused. Robin had sat up and was leaning over him, both of her hands on his shoulders as she tried to shake him awake. "Johnny, what's wrong? Talk to me," she commanded as her hands moved from his shoulders to his face.

He blinked several times just to make sure he wasn't still dreaming, "What happened?" he asked shakily.

"You were mumbling in your sleep, you'd been thrashing around and then you started screaming. What on earth were you dreaming about?"

She looked at him intently once more but he knew he couldn't tell her, he couldn't tell anyone what was happening to him.

* * *

Three days later he sat in his car waiting for Agent Collins to pull up in his, seeing the black sedan pull in to the parking spot next to him he rolled down his window.

"Well done, Detective Kelly. I see you managed to pull it off."

"I did what they asked, don't sit there and pretend I enjoyed it."

"Were they pleased with you?"

"They were happy that I got the job done, that's all that matters."

"So you're part of the team now, that's good."

"It's not good!" he snapped, "I'm up to my neck in shit and double dealing, you think this is some sort of game?"

"Oh stop being so dramatic," Collins said condescendingly, "Now that you have insider access I need you to start paying attention to how the Malucci's run their ship. Times, dates, places, people involved and that kind of thing."

"I think you're forgetting that I'm a cop, it's not like I can spend all day with those goons watching what they're up to."

"For the moment you are better placed playing either side off against each other, when the time's right we'll make our next move." The agent responded vaguely.

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, "I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this up, lying to people. Sooner or later I'm gonna trip up and this whole thing is going to blow up in my face."

"If you want to keep your people safe then you better start remembering what you've said. It's up to you to keep your cover intact."

"I'm just a pawn to you, aren't I?"

The agent looked away before answering, "Yes, should you mess up I'll just find someone else to do the job for me. Maybe that young, impressionable Martinez boy…" he let the threat hang in the air.

He felt his temper rise, "He has nothing to do with this, leave him out of it."

"Then stop whining and do your job, Detective Kelly. I'll be in contact soon." As the electric window came back up the FBI agent reversed out of the space and drove out of the parking lot, leaving John alone to consider his next move.

**I hope everyone is still enjoying the ride, please feel free to leave me comments, good or bad!**


	33. Chapter 33

**He's getting in deeper and deeper, how much longer can he keep his head above water?**

**Miami. Present day:**

"You're a real asshole, you know that?" Calleigh growled as she gave the man a disgusted look.

"Insulting me will not help your friend, Miss Duquesne. I can leave now if you wish."

She huffed and realised that he was right; they needed him to help put the pieces of the puzzle together. "How long did you string him along for?"

"Your friend became quite adept at keeping us regularly updated with information on the organisation whilst at the same time sabotaging his colleagues' investigations. The brothers had asked him to prove his worth to them further by informing them of when the police would be raiding their buildings. Those dimwits at the precinct never did realise he was behind it until it was too late.

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1994:**

The Malucci brothers had left their usual succinct message for him; he opened the door to his apartment to find a sealed envelope on the mat. Opening it he read the message, **"The warehouse in Brooklyn, 7pm Thursday."**

He screwed the letter up and threw it in the trash knowing that he would have no choice but to attend and act as though he was enjoying what he was doing. He dropped his jacket on the back of the sofa and made his way to the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of scotch he opened it and poured himself a large measure. "_This is starting to become a habit," _he told himself as he took a deep swig. It didn't stop him from pouring another, it seemed to be the only way he could cope with stresses of his everyday life. Living with one eye over his shoulder was weighing on him heavily; he wasn't sure how much longer he could go on leading a double life.

He sat wearily on his sofa and kicked his shoes off, rubbing at his eyes. He heard the phone ring but ignored it, it was probably Robin but he couldn't face talking to her right now. Every time she looked at him with those trusting eyes he felt sick, knowing that he was lying to her and betraying the people around him. She had told him what a good man he was but the words had no meaning to him, each time he closed his eyes a feeling of self-loathing came over him. He was disgusted with the man he had become, telling himself that he was doing it for the right reasons no longer seemed to placate the voices in his head that taunted him. He closed his eyes and prayed for sleep to take him soon otherwise he would be forced to drink until he passed out, he didn't think he could handle another day at work with a raging hangover.

* * *

He looked around to check if he had been followed. When the coast was clear he entered the warehouse through the rear entrance. As he made his way to the office he saw Frankie and Benny with a couple of their most trusted lieutenants. He knocked on the door and waited for the command to come in, he opened the door and stood as four sets of eyes bored in to him. "I got your message, you wanted to see me?"

Frankie gave him a smug smile and beckoned him in to the room with his hand, "Kelly, come and sit down with us. We have some things to discuss."

He looked around the room warily as if sensing he was walking into a trap, he saw the guns in the waistbands of the goons but they made no move towards them. He sat in front of the desk, "You have something you need me to do?"

Frankie leaned forward as he spoke, "We've heard through the grapevine that the NYPD are planning to raid some influential drug dealers in the tri-state area, you know anything about that?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "We've been getting some heat from the brass but no raids have been confirmed yet, that's why I hadn't said anything to you." The elder brother nodded but Benny regarded him with suspicious eyes.

"You know where our stashes are kept now; I take it we can rely on you to inform of us any scheduled visits from your colleagues?"

"Of course. As soon as I know I'll let you know, was there anything else you needed?"

Frankie leant back in his chair seemingly satisfied with his response, "If you do well there will be a hefty bonus for you, Kelly. I'm sure I don't need to remind you what would happen if you reneged on our agreement…."

He bristled at the unspoken threat but let it pass, losing his temper meant that this would not end well for him. "I'll get it done." With that he stood and left the office.

He returned home and waited for the call that he knew was to come. Sure enough a few hours later his phone rang, "You took your time," he growled as he answered it.

"Watch your tone, Detective Kelly. My associates have your apartment building under surveillance as you know, I take it you had a meeting with the Malucci's?"

"Who else would I be visiting? My social life has definitely taken a turn for the worse since I met you."

The agent let the insult slide, "What have they asked you to do this time?"

"They know that the NYPD are planning raids on some of their properties, they wanted me to give them the heads up when their buildings are going to be searched."

"You know their buildings, I take it."

"Of course I do, and so do you. I've told you everything I can about the organisation, there's only so much they'll let me see at the moment."

"And you're confident you can do this?"

"Of course I'm not, how the hell am I going to get a message to them without being caught?" He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"I'm sure you'll think of something, Detective Kelly." He slammed the phone back down as Collins hung up on him and let out a deep growl under his breath.

* * *

Two days later Lieutenant Fancy gathered the detectives of the 15th precinct in the squad room and addressed them as a group, "Listen up people. Today we'll be banging down doors and searching these premises." He handed a piece of paper to each detective in turn which had a list of buildings to be searched. John took his and quickly glanced down the page, his heart sank when he saw the addresses for four Malucci buildings. "We go in hard and fast, hopefully these shmucks won't know what has hit them. Split into teams of four and divide the list between you, take as many uniformed officers as you need." The detectives returned to their desks and spoke between themselves.

John sat back down at his desk and realised that he needed to get word to the brothers, and fast. He looked up at his partner, "Andy, I've got to run outside for a minute. You ok to cover me?"

The older man looked up and gave him a knowing smile, "Woman trouble again?"

He gave Andy a tight smile, "Something like that. You'll cover me?" His partner nodded and gestured to the stairs.

He left the precinct as quickly as he could; walking down the block until he was out of sight of the building he began jogging to a payphone another block away. He dialled and waited for someone to pick up, "Joe's Pizza. You top it, we drop it" a thick Brooklyn accent answered.

"It's Kelly; I need to speak to Frankie. It's urgent."

"Hold the line," was the gruff response.

A few moments later Benny came on the line, "Frankie's busy right now, pig. What have you got for us?"

The taunt angered him but he bit his tongue and concentrated on the task at hand. "I've just had word, the NYPD are doing raids today. Four of yours are on the list." He reeled off the information and waited for Benny's response.

"I can get three of them cleared in under an hour but the fourth won't be so easy. How did they know about Tommy's apartment?"

He closed his eyes and swallowed deeply, it was obvious that the information he had given Collins had somehow found its way back to the NYPD. "No idea, Benny. Probably someone running their mouth off, you want me to look into it and see what I can find?"

"Do that. You need to be on that raid at Tommy's, you'll find a stash of coke in bathroom. Get it out of there before it gets found, got it?"

The blood drained from his face, he had no idea how he would be able to pull it off. Benny sensed the hesitation, "You don't need to be persuaded again do you? I can send someone round to visit that lovely ex-wife of yours if you want."

"No. I'll get it done, don't worry." He slammed the phone back down and trudged back towards the precinct with his heart in his throat.

* * *

He went through the motions as he and Andy along with another two detectives began running down the names and addresses that they had been given from the list. The first three had all yielded substantial amounts of heroin and cocaine when they searched them; he had hoped the amount of drugs they found would keep them busy all day but before he knew it he and Andy were on their way to Tommy's apartment. He sat silently in the car on the way over as his partner drove; Andy kept giving him quick glances but said nothing.

He spent the entire drive over to Tommy's trying to think how he was going to pull it off, before he knew it they had arrived. He got out of the car slowly and took a couple of deep breaths, "You ok, John?" his partner asked him as Andy hoicked his pants up for the umpteenth time that day. He nodded his head, closed his eyes and sent a silent prayer before following the other detectives in to the building.

He stood back as Andy thumped on the door and barged through when it opened, sensing he would only get one chance John volunteered to take the bathroom. He made his way as quickly as he could and quietly pushed the door as close to closed as he dared, when the coast was clear he began his search. He looked in all of the obvious places first such as the medicine cabinets but came up empty; he heard the voices of his colleagues getting louder and knew they would soon come to join him. He caught the sight of the toilet out of the corner of his eye; he walked over and lifted the cistern lid. _"Bingo," _he thought as he eyed a packet of white powder, carefully fishing it out he dried it off with a hand towel before shoving it in his NYPD issue jacket. He hoped the fact that he was wearing a bullet-proof vest underneath the jacket would explain the odd shape of the clothing; he zipped it up and took another couple of deep breaths before returning to the lounge.

He glanced at his colleagues and saw their disappointed expressions, "You find anything?" he asked them, they all shook their heads.

"Guess the intel for this one was bad."

He looked at Andy, "I guess so, let's get back to the station and get started on the paperwork." He didn't wait for the others to agree before he was out of the door and heading back towards the car.

"You ok, John?" The voice of his partner made him jump, he hadn't realised that he'd been caught daydreaming again.

"Uh, sure." He answered as he shifted in his seat; he looked down at his jacket and hoped the bag of coke wasn't bulging out of the top of it. He caught Andy watching him as he adjusted his jacket, "These damn vests, they're uncomfortable," he said as a way of explanation.

"You could have taken it off before we got into the car."

He needed to think of an excuse, and quick. "You can't be too careful, Andy. It wouldn't be the first time a cop has been gunned down outside their precinct." Andy remained silent but nodded and kept his eyes on the road.

It seemed to take forever but finally the other detectives in their group left the locker room one by one, all that was left was his partner who was still looking at him quizzically. "You can take it off now, you know. I'm pretty sure no one's going to shoot us in the changing room."

"Yeah, you're right. Why don't you get started on the reports and I'll meet you out there in a minute. Nature calls, you know?" He looked Andy and hoped he would take the hint and leave him alone, all he needed was a couple of minutes to get rid of his cumbersome load. His partner shook his head in amusement and finally left the room.

His eyes darted around quickly to check the coast was clear before quietly opening his locker, taking one more look he pulled out the bag of drugs and hid it in the back of his locker before taking off the jacket and vest, he slammed the door shut and leant back against it. He closed his eyes and willed the room to stop spinning and his heart to stop racing, he had managed to get rid of the evidence at Tommy's but he realised he had no idea what to do with it now. Keeping it at his apartment wasn't an option, what if Robin found it? How would he explain it to her? He didn't have long to think about it when he heard Lieutenant Fancy's voice booming across the squad room summoning his detectives to attention.


	34. Chapter 34

**Can things get any worse? Of course they can!**

**Miami. Present day:**

Calleigh leant back in her seat in a state of shock, "You bastard, I can't believe you made him steal evidence. He would never do that."

The FBI agent couldn't doubt the sincerity in her voice but was insulted by the accusation. "I didn't _make_ him do anything, Miss Duquesne. I instructed him to do whatever was necessary; it's not my fault if he chose to do what he did."

"He wouldn't have been in that mess if it wasn't for you; he must have hated you for it."

He laughed at that, "Yes, every time we spoke all I heard was how hard it was on him, how he hated living a double life and lying to people. I got fed up with his constant whining but I'm not sure he was best pleased with my solution to his problems."

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1994:**

The rest of the shift seemed to pass in a blur as he sat at his desk and tried to concentrate on the reports in front of him. Several times he had got up to get coffee or wander into the locker room trying to take his mind off of what had transpired earlier in the day. Finally, as the clock struck 6pm, he collected his jacket and left the squad room without saying a word to anyone. Running down the stairs he ignored the officers who spoke to him and got to his car as quickly as he could.

He sat in the driver's seat and closed his eyes; he could feel his whole body shaking as the enormity of his actions hit him at full force. Hitting out at the steering wheel in anger he growled under his breath and willed his hands to stop shaking. _"Pull yourself together, you idiot," _he told himself, now was not the time to fall apart.

Climbing the stairs to his apartment slowly he felt as if he'd aged a decade in the last few months, the pressure of leading a double life began to weigh heavily on his shoulders. He had no idea how long Collins was going to drag this operation out for; it was hard enough living from one day to the next without thinking that far into the future.

He opened the door and flicked the lights on, relieved to find no unexpected visitors. He threw his jacket down and made his way to the bathroom in an effort to wash away his sins. He turned the water on as hot as possible and hissed as it hit his tired and aching body, the temperature turned his skin bright red and scalded him as he stood under it but nothing he did would soothe his troubled mind. He stood under the water until it turned cold, only then stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist. He took a long look at himself in the mirror, noticing the dark circles under his eyes. He could see the effect the last few months had had on him, his face gaunt and his clothes hanging loosely on his body. He had spent most nights eating little and drinking too much and now it was starting to show in his appearance. It wouldn't be too much longer before people started asking questions.

He opened the medicine cabinet and found the half-empty bottle of painkillers he'd been prescribed when he'd been released from hospital, against his better judgement he picked up the bottle and shook two tablets out onto his hand before throwing them in to his mouth, picking up the glass by the sink he filled it with water and swallowed the pills down. He closed his eyes as he made his way back to the lounge, sat down and waited for the drugs to take effect.

He waited, and waited. Thirty minutes later and he still felt no different, he walked back to the bathroom and grabbed the bottle from the cabinet and took another two pills hoping they would knock him out and leave him with a nightmare-free night. He sat back down on the couch and waited for the opiates to take effect.

He could feel the walls close in around him, the Oxycodone exacerbating his already weakened condition. Visions of his loved ones dead or dying by his hand flew through his mind, he screwed his eyes shut and tried to block their screams out but nothing seemed to work. He grabbed at his head with both hands and squeezed as hard as he could but still the images and voices hounded him. He reached out for the bottle of pills with a shaky hand and tipped a few more out, he swallowed them dry and closed his eyes again, unable to stop the tears that escaped from beneath his lids.

He could feel everything slowing down, the visions playing out as if in slow-motion and the voices becoming lower and deeper. He tried to open his eyes but he felt as if he were made of stone, suddenly the world seemed to twist violently sideways, he felt as if he were falling and then, nothing.

* * *

"John, wake up!" He could have sworn he heard someone calling his name, the noise sounded like it was coming from miles away. "John, what happened? Talk to me!" He heard the voice again, louder this time. Then he felt it, the slap to the face. "Open your eyes, come on!" He felt another slap, this time harder.

He tried valiantly to open his eyes, eventually he saw the blurry outline of a woman straddling his hips her hand positioned for another blow to his face. "Urgh." It was unintelligible and the only noise he could force his body to make.

She sat back as relief washed over her, "Thank God. Stay awake, I'm going to call an ambulance." She stood up and walked over to the phone.

He managed to turn over and grunt at her, trying to pull himself up by the coffee table. It took all of his strength but he managed to put the words together breathlessly, "No. Don't."

She froze with the phone in her hand, "You need to see a doctor, what happened?" Her eyes widened as she followed his eyes to the bottle of pills on the table. "How many did you take?" she asked as she picked the bottle up.

"I…..don't, I don't…..know." He could feel the arm holding him halfway off the floor shake; it wouldn't be long before his strength ran out completely. "Coffee…I need coffee."

"No, you need to go to the hospital." She placed the bottle down and crouched down next to him. "Please, let me get you checked out." She pleaded at him with her soulful eyes.

"No." His voice was stronger this time, "Help me up." It was his turn to look at her with pleading eyes and she knew she wouldn't be able to resist. The same gorgeous blue eyes of the man she fell in love with all those years ago, they may have been divorced for nearly a year but it didn't stop her caring about the man in front of her. She held her hand out to him and smiled as he took it, it was only then that she realised he was wearing nothing but a towel.

Together they managed to get him sitting back down on the couch, she walked to the bedroom and brought the quilt back out with her, placing it over him as he began to shiver. He smiled gratefully at her and watched with heavy eyes as she made her way to the kitchen. She returned some time later with two steaming cups of black coffee, she handed him one and commanded him to drink it. He screwed his face up when he tasted it, "You wanted coffee. Drink it." He never could deny her anything, he obediently did as he was told and downed the strong-tasting beverage.

She sat watching him as he drunk several more cups of coffee until she was satisfied that he was somewhat coherent. She had been devastated when she heard about the attack on him; she remembered the look on Andy's face when she opened the door to him that fateful night. It was the look she had been dreading seeing ever since she fell in love with the redheaded detective. It was also partly the reason she called time on their marriage, she couldn't bear the thought of her beloved husband being slain on the streets as he went about his job, it was the one thing that every wife of a cop dreaded, to hear those words that their husband had been killed in the line of duty.

She was in a state of shock as Andy told her that John had been taken to hospital and that it looked pretty bad. Her heart thumped in her chest as she tried to take in the news. She only remembered parts of the drive over to the hospital but would never forget the sight of her ex-husband lying so still on that bed, looking so battered and bruised.

She looked into his eyes and found him watching her, taking a long hard look at him she could see how much he'd changed in just a few short months. He looked haggard and ill, it was obvious that he wasn't taking care of himself properly. She placed a hand on his knee, "We need to get you some help, Johnny."

He shook his head, "No. I'm fine."

"You're not, look at you. What the hell happened tonight, why did you take these?" She held up the bottle of Oxycodone and he felt his cheeks flush with shame.

"I had a headache, I just wanted the pain to stop so I could sleep," he lied.

"You shouldn't still be taking these; you need to see a doctor." She tried to reason with him again.

"Look, I was just tired and forgot that I'd already taken some. It was a simple mistake, I'm fine." He ran a shaky hand through his hair.

"Please, Johnny. I worry about you." She looked at him again with those pleading eyes.

He wasn't sure how much longer he could carry on looking at her before the urge to confess to everything became too much. He hated himself for what he was about to do, he steeled himself as he spoke. "You divorced me; you've got no right to worry about me. Why don't you go and play house with that paediatrician you've been seeing?"

She flinched and removed her hand from his knee, she knew him too well and was aware that he'd lashed out in an effort to push her away; it didn't make the words hurt any less though. "You need help, I can…."

He cut her off, "I don't need help, especially yours!" he said as he raised his voice, "You were the one who ended it, not me. You've got no right to come around here and tell me what to do. Just go home and leave me alone." He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the look of hurt on her face.

She leaned forward and placed her hand on his leg but removed it when she felt him flinch. Sighing, she grabbed her purse and let herself out of his apartment and closed the door quietly behind her. Once he was sure she had gone he leant his head back and let the tears fall from his eyes.

* * *

He was woken by the shrill ringing of the telephone; he opened his eyes and grunted as the room came back into focus. He got up from the couch on shaky legs and answered the phone with a gruff, "What?"

"My, my. Not a morning person, are we?"

He ran a hand over his face in an effort to wake himself up; one glance out of the window told him that he had slept on the couch all night. "I can't do this anymore."

"Can't do what, Detective Kelly?"

"I can't keep lying to everyone, this has got to stop. I want out."

"You know that's not an option. How did the raids go yesterday, were you able to get word to the Malucci's in time?"

He let out a long breath, "Yeah, I spoke to Benny. He said they'd get the places stripped before we arrived but he needed help with one of them."

"What kind of help?"

"He asked me to…" he hesitated before trying again, "He told me where to find the stash, and he wanted me to get to it before my colleagues did."

"And did you?"

He gulped deeply, hating to admit to what he'd done. "Yes, I managed to get it out without being noticed."

"And where is it now?"

"In my locker at the precinct, I had nowhere else to put it."

"Interesting…"

He could feel his temper rise, was this all just a game to the other man? "I'm serious, Collins. I want out, I can't keep doing this. Something's got to give."

"Really, do you always have to be so dramatic? Leave it with me; I'll see what I can do."

"That's it? You're not going to give me anything to go on?" His voice rose, "You can't just leave me dangling, I can't do this anymore."

"Give me a few days; you'll know when the time is right. Just try to keep your head until then."

The line went dead; he threw the phone down in frustration. Knowing Collins whatever he intended to do would not be good.


	35. Chapter 35

**Here's the next part for you:**

**Miami. Present day:**

"What did you do to him?" Calleigh asked as she eyed the FBI agent suspiciously.

"I didn't 'do' anything to him; I merely put into motion a set of events that were inevitable."

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1994:**

The weekend went by in a blur, much of his time spent drinking himself into oblivion. The incessant beeping of his alarm woke him on Monday morning, reaching out blindly he smacked the clock radio to silence it. _"At least I made it to the bed this time," _he thought to himself as he dragged a weary hand over his face. Half-heartedly going through the motions of getting ready for work he walked through to the kitchen and made himself a coffee, using the beverage to swallow two aspirin in an attempt to keep his growing headache at bay. He made himself some toast but could only force half a slice down as his stomach refused to settle. He drunk the last of his coffee before collecting his keys and wallet and heading for the door.

Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible he made his way in to the squad room, returning the smiles and nods of his colleagues as best he could. He slipped in to the changing room and opened his locker, checking that no one else was around he pushed things out of the way to check the drugs were still there. He slammed the door shut as he heard Andy enter the room; the burly detective looked his partner up and down. "You look like shit, heavy weekend?"

He tried to smile and sound convincing, "Something like that."

The older detective wasn't buying it, "I'm serious, John. You don't look good; maybe you should get yourself checked out."

He needed to say something to get him off of his back, agreeing with him seemed like the best option. "Ok, I will. I promise, after we've done these reports." He left the room before his partner had a chance to reply.

He sat opposite Andy trying to concentrate on writing up his reports about the raids last week; Lieutenant Fancy wanted answers as to why nothing was found at the search of Tommy's apartment. He tapped his pencil on the table as he tried to think of something to write, he kept looking across to the entrance of the squad room and then back to his hands again. _"Keep it together," _he told himself. Since arriving this morning he'd had a bad feeling, Agent Collin's words were still fresh in his mind.

He was shaken from his reverie by his gruff partner, "Quit tapping, John. You're giving me a headache." The irritation in the other man's voice was clear.

He looked at Andy in confusion, unable to remember what his partner had just said. "Sorry, what did you say?" He saw the other man's eyes narrow and felt uncomfortable being the focus of his attention. He kicked himself for being caught unaware; he knew he was doing a poor job of hiding his problems. People had already started asking questions and noticing behaviour, it wouldn't be long before somebody put it all together and the whole house of cards would fall down around him.

He heard Greg Medavoy's voice from across the room, "Uh oh, here comes trouble," he stuttered as he picked up a file and began staring at it intently.

His eyes travelled up as two IAB officers entered the squad room, his heart sank as he recognised the lead detective. He knew they had come for him, somehow they had found out about him. He gripped the pencil tightly in his hands as he watched them walk over to Fancy's office, so tightly that the pencil snapped. It caught the attention of his partner who looked up at him, "Jeeze, what's gotten in to you? Afraid the rat squad have come for you?"

He could feel the walls once again begin to close in around him, his heart beating wildly in his chest as his panicked brain tried to think a way out of the mess he'd gotten himself into. In a move of complete cowardice he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair as he stood and spoke to his partner, "Andy, I gotta duck out. Can you cover for me?"

He was almost out of the room before he heard Fancy's booming voice, "Kelly, my office. Now."

* * *

The last few hours had been the worst of his life, his world fell apart around him as Rodriguez and his partner showed him picture after picture of him meeting with the Malucci brothers and their associates. At first he tried to lie his way out of the hole he was in but as he was shown more evidence he knew he would not be able to talk his way out of it.

He felt completely betrayed; Collins had been playing him the whole time. He had told the FBI agent that he wanted out, _"Be careful what you wish for," _he told himself as he sat in a dingy cell at the 15th precinct. He had trusted the agent and now he was left holding the bag. He knew Collins had been the one to provide IAB with the photos and it was obvious he'd told them where to find the coke, no one else knew but the two of them.

Sure, he'd wanted out but not like this. His fall from grace had been higher and harder than he'd ever imagined, as soon as Detective Adams had shoved the search warrant in his lap he knew his time was up. The worst part was seeing the look on Andy's face as the bag of cocaine was found in his locker, not that he could see all that much as he was forced face-first into a locker and cuffed. He knew he shouldn't of but he couldn't help himself as he looked back and saw the look of utter devastation on his partner's face.

They had frog-marched him to an interview room and stripped him of his gun, badge and shield before spending hours questioning him and his association with the Malucci's. He could tell his silence had irritated the IAB detectives as they continued to hound him, throughout it all he refused to break. They had formally charged him and thrown him in the cells for the night until he could be put before a judge for his bail hearing. Andy had come down to see him; he couldn't bear to look at his partner's face as he was asked questions he knew he couldn't answer. The urge to confess everything to Andy was almost more than he could bear and so he lashed out at his partner before his defences crumbled completely. As Andy walked away he was powerless to stop the tears that fell from his eyes, he had lost his job and the people he loved all in one day. He felt utterly bereft.

* * *

The duty sergeant rattled the bars of his cage and brought him back to awareness, "Get up, Kelly. It's your big day in court." He couldn't miss the sneer the officer gave him, it was obvious that word had already got out about his involvement with the Malucci's. Tucking his shirt in and straightening his tie he stood by the bars and waited for the cell to be unlocked, "Step back and don't try anything funny."

He did as he was told and was pushed roughly backwards before having a pair of cuffs put on his wrists. "Is that really necessary?"

The officer gave him a look of contempt, "You think any of us trust a dirty piece of shit like you anymore?"

He was grabbed by the arm and shoved past the rest of the cells as the other detainees jeered and whistled at him. "Could you at least put something over my arms when we get outside?"

"Forget it, Kelly. We want everyone to see what you really are."

Much of the journey to the courthouse passed in a blur, he didn't even take in half of what was being said to him as he stood in the dock ready to face the judge. He'd declined his union representative last night knowing that it would be pointless, he would be dismissed from the police force with immediate effect, of that he was sure. He hadn't even bothered to ask for a lawyer, he'd been set up and caught red-handed; no high-flying lawyer would be able to talk him out of the charges against him.

He looked around the courtroom as the judge entered; he wasn't surprised when he didn't find any of his colleagues in attendance. He took a small amount of encouragement from the fact that at least they wouldn't have to see this. The public defender assigned to him did her best to argue his case but he struggled to understand what she said, his focus centred on one thing, Robin.

She had entered the courtroom just as the hearing started; she looked utterly shocked and stared at him with her mouth open. He felt the pain lance through his chest as the charges were read out; as each crime was described out loud she shed more tears. He closed his eyes and wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole so that he didn't have to see that pained expression on her face. His lawyer had managed to get him bail which had been set at $50,000, he knew he didn't have that kind of money and resigned himself to a long stay in a detention centre until his case came to trial. _"Might as well get used to it," _he told himself as he was led to a holding cell.

It took him by surprise when his cell door was opened less than an hour later, "Where are we going?" he asked the officer as he was led down the past the other cells.

"Looks like your lucky day, someone's posted bail for you."


	36. Chapter 36

**So who posted bail then?**

**Miami. Present day:**

"Let me guess, the Malucci's paid it?"

"No, it was that simpering woman he'd been seeing. Luckily she was quiet well off."

"But what happened? Was he really kicked off the force, how the hell would he be able to run the crime lab here if he had?"

"I might have withheld certain parts of the plan; it wouldn't have done your friend any favours if he really knew what was going on."

She reached out and grabbed him by the arm, squeezing as hard as she could. "You're telling me that you let him think you'd sandbagged him, that he'd lost his job?"

He winced at the strength of her grip, "He needed to maintain his authenticity. Of course, he had to persuade the Malucci's that he was still a worthy asset to them."

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1994:**

He sat in the passenger seat of Robin's car as she drove him back to his apartment; she had barely said anything to him apart from asking him if he was ok. He nodded his head in reply but couldn't bear to make eye contact with her. He led her up to his apartment and sat down on the couch as he pulled the tie from around his neck, he fiddled with it in his hands as she spoke to him.

"What the hell is going on, John?"

He still couldn't look at her, "I'm sorry." He said quietly.

"You're sorry?" she asked incredulously as her voice rose, "Tell me what they're saying isn't true."

He knew he couldn't but he couldn't keep on lying to her either, maybe it was safer for everyone if he made them believe he was dirty. "I'm sorry, Robin. I never meant for you to find out."

"Why?" she asked as she sat down heavily, still in shock. "Did you need the money? I could have helped you with that."

He shook his head, how was he going to make her understand? "It doesn't matter why I did it. I got caught, end of story." He held his head in his hands.

"This isn't you, John. You wouldn't do something like this, I know you."

Still she kept pressing him, wanting answers that he couldn't give her. The stress and the pressure of his situation was starting to become too much. "Then maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do," he heard her gasp in shock at his angry tone. "You think you're the only one, that you're something special to me? You were just an easy lay." As he spoke he hoped that one day Robin would understand that his own words had caused him more pain than she could ever know.

"You're right," she said as she made her way to the door. "More fool me for falling in love with an asshole like you. I hope they throw away the key."

He winced as she slammed the door shut behind her, how could his world have fallen apart so quickly and so completely? He had been left with nothing but his own misery and loathing.

* * *

The phone rang several times but he decided to ignore it, he knew it would be Collins on the phone wanting to gloat over his actions. If he hadn't been so shell-shocked he would have been furious at the FBI agent, he had destroyed his life in an instant. He would have torn the other man limb from limb before castigating himself for ever believing what he'd told him. He heard movement on the landing outside his apartment and crept quietly to the door, he felt for his service weapon until he realised he no longer had it. Keeping flat against the wall he watched as the silhouette of a pair of shoes stood on the other side of the door for a few moments before something was shoved under it. He waited until the footsteps became quieter before picking the envelope up.

He didn't need to read it; he knew who it would be from. He opened it anyway, **_"We need to talk, Brooklyn Bridge 9pm. Tonight."_** He ripped the paper into pieces with shaky hands before letting the paper fall to the floor, he knew the brothers would want answers, what use was he to them now he was longer a cop?

The phone rang again; he picked it up knowing he would be on the other end. "You really should answer your phone, Mr Kelly," the snide voice of Agent Collins came down the line; he didn't miss the fact that he no longer called him detective.

"What do you want? You've already ruined my life, what happened to immunity?"

"That turn of events was unfortunate. I do hold some sway with your Internal Affairs Bureau; it would be in your best interest to keep on with your assignment."

"No," he said vehemently. "No way, I've lost my job and everything I care about. You can shove your assignment up your ass."

"And how are you planning to keep your loved ones safe then? By all accounts they hate you right now; it would be such a terrible shame if the Malucci's were to get to them. How would you defend them? You haven't even got a gun anymore."

"How do I know you'll keep your word? You hardly did a great job protecting me."

"They're safe, are they not?" the agent sneered down the phone. "No harm has come to them yet because my men are keeping watch over them. If you pull out now they'll be left to their own devices, defenceless."

The meaning of Collins' words sank in, he realised that he would have no choice but to carry on, it was the only way he knew he could keep them safe. He sighed defeated, "I've been summoned to a meeting with the brothers, 9pm tonight."

"No doubt they'll have heard of your fall from grace. If I were you I'd do a good job of convincing them you still have some worth to them."

* * *

He spent the drive over to the bridge deciding how he would explain himself to the Malucci's. He pulled up and got out of the car reluctantly, eyeing the water he knew he would either talk his way out of this one or end up floating in the river by the end of the night. He had only walked a couple of steps before two heavies grabbed him by either arm and marched him forward. He walked with his head down and stumbled a couple of times before his assailants pushed him roughly forward. He looked up and into the eyes of Frankie Malucci.

"You've been a busy boy this week, haven't you?" the mobster asked as he stepped closer towards him. "What happened to our coke?"

"I got caught in possession of it, it's been seized by the NYPD." He answered as he tried to keep the fear out of his voice.

"I see, that leaves us with a bit of a conundrum. What do we do with you now?" Frankie placed a hand on his chin as if deep in thought, "You've been kicked out the force, what use are you to us now?"

He swallowed deeply but said nothing as he heard the heavies coming closer to him; they grabbed him by the arms as Frankie punched him square in the stomach. "I want the truth, pig. What did you tell them?"

He sagged and gasped for breath, "I didn't tell them anything, I swear."

Frankie grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head up so that they were eye to eye, then punched him in the face twice. "Why should we believe you, how about we go and pay a visit to that lovely girlfriend of yours?"

He spat the blood from his mouth on to the ground; he knew he had to think quickly if he was going to get out of this alive. "I know who gave the cops the information on your buildings." He stopped talking as Frankie pulled a knife and brought it to his throat; he gulped as he tried to keep calm.

"Keep talking." He felt a trickle of blood run down his neck as Frankie pushed the knife harder against his throat.

"I heard one of my colleagues talking about a CI they had, I followed him to a meet they'd arranged. It was Luca Del Marco." It was all a pack of lies but it was the best he could come up with at the moment.

"Really." Frankie replied warily.

"Yes, he's been grassing on you for weeks. I swear." He felt the pressure of the knife against him lessen a little.

"That as may be, it still leaves the question of what we're going to do with you. You're not a cop anymore; you're no use to us now."

He felt the knife bite into his skin again. "I can though, who better to have than a guy who knows how the cops work? I can help you." He couldn't believe he'd been reduced to this, begging for his life. "Please, just give me a chance to prove it to you." He closed his eyes and waited for Frankie to end his life, _"Just make it quick," _he begged silently.

The final blow never came; he slowly opened his eyes as he felt the knife move away from his neck. "Maybe you're right; we've invested heavily in you. Let's see if you're still worth it." Frankie folded the knife away and put it back in his jacket before nodding at the goons behind him to release him. The mobster stood in front of him and smoothed the redhead's clothes out before giving him a couple of less-than-gentle pats on the face. "Track down Del Marco and bring him to us, I want to hear what he has to say."

He nodded as he backed away and made his way towards his car, Benny called out to him, "You have two days, pig, if you don't produce the goods we'll be coming after you next."


	37. Chapter 37

**Flashback. New York 1994:**

He might not be in the NYPD anymore but it didn't stop him being a good investigator, he spent most of the first twenty four hours since his meeting with the Malucci's tracking down Luca Del Marco. He found it much harder without the resources of the precinct to back him up and so he went about things the old fashioned way. Greasing the palms of local drug addicts in an attempt to locate Del Marco had given him a few solid leads until he had finally tracked the young mobster down.

He sat outside Del Marco's apartment that night and watched as the young man stumbled back towards his home clearly drunk after a heavy night of partying. It had been one of the reasons he'd volunteered the man's name to the Malucci brothers, Luca Del Marco had big ambitions and an even bigger mouth. The man seemed incapable of keeping anything to himself and could often be overheard bragging about his latest accomplishments within the crime organisation to anyone that would listen.

He quietly exited his car and made his way up the steps of the apartment building, checking his jacket pocket once more for the gun he'd purchased from a known-Malucci associate earlier in the day. Creeping up the stairs he reached Del Marco's apartment, placing his ear to the door he listened for any sounds of movement. He shook his head as he heard the other man stumble drunkenly around his home but couldn't hear any voices. Deciding that Del Marco was probably alone he reached for his gun before gently turning the door handle.

He was surprised as it turned easily and opened, he moved forward quietly and peered into the darkened room. From the light flooding in from the door way he could make out the shadow of the other man half-sitting, half-lying in an armchair and could hear his soft snoring. He closed the door quietly and sat on the coffee table in front of Del Marco; he reached over and turned the table lamp on. He sighed as the other man had passed out cold, taking no notice of the artificial light in the room, his senses heightened when he came to the realisation that perhaps this was all a bit too easy, what if it was a set up?

_"Too late to worry about that now," _he told himself as he slapped Del Marco with his left hand and keeping a tight grip of the gun in the other. The younger man groaned and swatted the hand away. He slapped him harder this time and it had the desired effect; the young mobster woke up looking down the barrel of a 9mm semi-automatic pistol.

"What do you want, pig? Hasn't Benny had your hide yet for losing his drugs?"

His grip tightened on the gun, the urge to shoot the cocky son of a bitch in front of him was a tantalising prospect. "You need to come with me, Frankie wants a word with you."

"And why would he send you?" Del Marco asked unable to hide his arrogance, "Tell Frankie to come and find me."

The other man made a move to get up but stopped when the redhead took the safety of the gun and aimed it square at his chest. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way, it's up to you."

Del Marco regarded him for a few moments before giving him a smug grin; he turned his head to one side before launching a fist at the redhead's face.

He moved out of the way quickly and countered with a punch of his own, the younger man launched himself at him as they both went flying over the coffee table and on to the floor. Shoves and punches were traded until John finally gained the upper hand and pistol-whipped the younger man, knocking him out cold.

He lay on the floor for a while, trying to catch his breath and take stock of his injuries. Satisfied that he was no worse off than a few more bruises he dusted himself off and got up, wiping the blood from his mouth. He walked over to the door and checked the landing was clear before hoisting Del Marco over his shoulder and taking him out of the apartment building via the back entrance. He kept in the shadows as he crept round to where he'd parked his car, stopping every once in a while to readjust the dead weight he was carrying. When the coast was clear he quickly and quietly opened the trunk of his car and shoved the unconscious man in it. He glanced around quickly to check for witnesses before taping Del Marco's wrists together and covering his mouth with duct tape.

He stopped at a payphone ten miles away from Del Marco's apartment and dialled a familiar number, "Joe's Pizza. You top it, we drop it."

"It's Kelly; tell Frankie I've found what he's been looking for. Ask him where he wants me to deliver the goods to."

The line went quiet for a few minutes until he heard the gruff response, "The warehouse in Brooklyn. Be there within the hour."

He placed the phone back in its cradle as the line went dead. He walked back to his car and popped the trunk to check on his unwilling passenger who was still out cold. _"Rather you than me," _he told himself as he shut the trunk and got back in the car.

He made it to the warehouse quickly which left him time to think about his actions recently. He'd gone from being a respected NYPD detective to nothing more than a common criminal in the space of a few days. Here he was sitting outside a warehouse with an unconscious man in his trunk who he knew would likely meet his maker by the end of the night. It occurred to him that he was setting Del Marco up, accusing him of something he hadn't done. _"The guy's an animal; he's done his fair share of stealing and killing." _He tried to justify his actions and although he could try to rationalise what he was doing his heart still weighed heavy with the consequences of his actions.

He saw Frankie's car pull up and got out to meet him, "I've got Del Marco, where do you want him?"

The mobster adjusted his tailored Italian overcoat as he answered, "Bring him to the office so we can all have a little chat."

He nodded and walked back over to the trunk of his car, pulling his load out by the arms he threw him over his shoulder and made his way into the building. He dumped Del Marco's unconscious form on to a chair as instructed by Frankie and stood back. The ageing mobster regarded his quarry for a few moments before ripping the tape off of Del Marco's mouth and slapping him hard several times in an effort to rouse him.

The young mobsters eyes went wide as he came face to face with Frankie, "Wakey, wakey. A little bird tells me you've been running your mouth of Luca. Is that right?"

Bound tightly by the wrists he shook his head vigorously, "No, I haven't said nothing to nobody. I swear, Frankie."

"That's not what I hear," the older man replied as he paced the room. "You've got a habit of letting that mouth of yours flap around in the breeze. Maybe you've been talking to the cops."

"No, I haven't. I swear!" the cocky arrogance of earlier had been replaced with snivelling and pleading.

"How did they know where our drugs were? We're very careful about who we tell."

"Maybe it was the pig over there," he pointed in the direction of the redhead. "How do you know you can trust him?"

Frankie stopped pacing and placed his hands behind his back, "That's a good question. How do we know we can trust you, Red?"

He swallowed deeply as all eyes turned to him, "I brought him here didn't I?"

Frankie seemed to accept his response and turned his attention back to Del Marco. "Admit it now or things are going to get quite painful for you, Luca."

John spent most of the next fifteen minutes with his eyes closed as he heard the screams of Luca Del Marco as Frankie and his lieutenants pushed for answers that the young mobster couldn't give them. Each bone snapping felt like another arrow piercing his heart, he was powerless to do anything but stand by and watch as the young man begged and pleaded for his life. He had no idea how he held back the urge to jump in and confess his true identity, he couldn't bear to hear the younger man suffer anymore. Just as willpower gave out completely he heard gurgled choking and saw Del Marco's lifeless body fall to the floor, his accusing eyes staring up at him.

Frankie wiped the blood from his knife with a cloth before sitting back behind his desk, "Let this serve as a warning to you, Kelly. You don't ever want to get on the wrong side of us. Get rid of the body."

He sent a silent prayer to God as he tied weights to the corpse of Luca Del Marco and pushed him off the Brooklyn Bridge in the middle of the night under the cover of darkness. He watched as the body slowly sunk to the bottom of the river. As he stood there he tried to reason with himself that he'd done the world a favour, one less violent criminal on the streets, but he still couldn't reconcile with himself the way he stood back and watched the other man be tortured and killed. No amount of praying or confessing his sins would ever make what he had just done right.


	38. Chapter 38

**Here's the next part for you:**

**Miami. Present day:**

"No, you're lying. Horatio would never stand back and let something like that happen, he's a good man." She wasn't sure who she was trying to convince, herself or Collins.

"Maybe you don't know your friend as well as you think you do. He did what he had to do to maintain his cover. Someone like you wouldn't understand." Collins replied dismissively.

"You're right, but I won't ever turn my back on him. Whatever he did back then is in the past, I know the man he is now. I'd give my life for his and so would the rest of the team."

"Being undercover is a lonely road, Miss Duquesne. Feelings and friendships just get in the way; your colleague would have done well to learn that much quicker than he did."

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1994:**

It had been two weeks since he had witnessed Luca Del Marco savagely tortured and murdered in front of him. Try as he might he could not get the image of the young mobster staring up at him with unseeing eyes, the look of accusation had stuck with him. However he tried to rationalise it, that the young punk had it coming, it still didn't change the fact that he had stood by and let the man suffer and ultimately die when he could have stepped in and saved him.

Lori and Robin had come knocking at his door but he ignored them and chose to spend his time drinking scotch and castigating himself for his actions. He had even heard the voice of young Detective James Martinez standing outside his apartment, the shame washed over him as he heard the pain in the other man's voice, begging him to open the door and explain himself. Andy had not paid him a visit since the day he had been arrested, his harsh words wounding his partner's ego.

They had all come looking for answers, answers he couldn't give them. He realised that he couldn't stay in the apartment any longer, he needed to find somewhere else, somewhere that they couldn't find him. He had managed to find an apartment a few blocks from his old one, the rent was cheap due to the fact that the building supervisor was being extorted by the Malucci brothers, forced to pay protection money to the mob organisation. The super was well aware of who John Kelly was and did his best to keep himself to himself and leave the redhead to go about his business freely.

He kept an eye on his old apartment building for the first few weeks, lurking in the shadows and watching as the people he cared about came and went, trying to find him. The physical pain of seeing them and yet not being able to reach out and talk to them or touch them hurt him deeply. When he slept at night he would see their faces and the looks of hurt and disappointment as they trudged wearily from the building and back to their own lives. He knew he had been drinking too much but it soon became the only way he could cope, trying to sleep whilst sober became nearly impossible, every time he closed his eyes he would be haunted by the things he had done recently. Even drinking himself into oblivion only helped for so long, he would wake as he did most nights, in a cold sweat with his heart thumping and his chest heaving.

He had been driving through Brooklyn that morning, collecting protection money from the local businesses on behalf of the Malucci's when he drove past a church. He pulled the car up outside and made his way into the old building. Upon entering he made the sign of the cross and sent a prayer up to God, willing him to listen. Looking around he could see the church was empty; he made his way to the confession box and was surprised when he heard the compartment to the other side open. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," he said quietly.

A croaky voice came from the other side, "How long has it been since your last confession?"

He sighed deeply and closed his eyes, "Too long, father. Months, I think."

"I see, and what has kept you away from the house of God for so long?"

"My life has spun out of control, I've done things I shouldn't have."

"And you've not confessed your sins to God, why?"

"I'm ashamed, Father. I've tried to ignore them and pretend that it didn't happen but it's haunting me, hounding me."

"Your sins?"

"Yes. I thought if I could block them out that the guilt would wash away, but it hasn't. It's got worse."

"And you have come to confess them and seek the forgiveness of God?"

He took a deep breath, "I don't think God will forgive me for the things that I have done, Father."

The croaky voice softened slightly, "You are never so far away from God that his arms can't reach you, my son. God will forgive any and all trespasses against him if your heart is pure. Tell me what it is that troubles you so."

"I've lied to the people I care about, betrayed my oath as an officer of the law, stolen and cheated. I watched a man die and didn't do anything to stop it, how can God forgive me for that?" He finished quietly, the hopelessness evident in his voice.

"And why did you do these things, my son?"

He gulped deeply, trying to regain his composure. "I had no choice, it was the only way I could protect them and keep them safe."

"You were forced the commit your sins by the forces of evil?" the priest questioned, keeping his voice level.

"They were going to kill them, the people I care about. It was the only way I could keep them safe."

"You admit that your actions were wrong but that you made your choices with the best of intentions?"

"Yes," he answered simply. "I never meant for things to get so out of control. They all hate me now; they think I did those things and that I enjoyed it."

"And did you? Enjoy it?"

"Of course I didn't," he snapped as his temper got the better of him, he took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself. "I've hated every minute of it, I can't eat or sleep."

"The weight of your actions hangs heavy on you, my son that much is clear. How have you reconciled your actions with yourself so far?"

"I haven't. I tried to tell myself that I did those things for the right reasons but how can I ever justify standing back and letting someone die? How can I ask for God's forgiveness when I can't even forgive myself?"

"And you are struggling to cope with this guilt?"

"Yes, even drinking myself into a stupor doesn't seem to work anymore. I keep seeing their faces every time I close my eyes, the people I lied to and betrayed. I want to confess to them so badly, tell them the reasons behind my actions. They won't understand, they hate me."

"Alcohol is not the answer, my son. God understands your reasons but might not agree with your actions. The road to Hell is paved with good intentions."

He ran a ragged hand through his hair, "Trust me, I know. If I could go back and change what I've done, I would. It's better that they are still alive and hate me, I think I could learn to live with that."

Silence filled the confessional before the priest finally spoke, "It is a brave man who takes it upon himself to bear the weight of responsibility for those he loves. It is an even stronger man who travels the path of righteousness on his own, cutting his ties from the people around him even though they do not understand the sacrifice he has made for them. God loves all his children, you may have strayed from your course but your heart is pure and He will forgive you of your sins."

"But what if I have to commit more sinful acts to keep them safe?"

"Then you must seek out the ear of God, he will always listen to you. Allow him to guide you through your time of torment and lead you back to His path should you find yourself straying. He is testing you at this time; you must keep your faith and remain true to God's word."

"I'm not sure I can do that." He answered quietly.

"You must for all other paths lead to Hell."

He left the church feeling slightly lighter for unburdening his sins and asking for forgiveness, he just wasn't sure he deserved it.


	39. Chapter 39

**Here's the next part for you:**

**Flashback. New York 1995:**

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months and still he kept a watchful eye over the people he cared about, lurking in the shadows and keeping his distance. The visits to his old apartment became less as his loved ones moved on with their lives, leaving him feeling completely alone. Soon they stopped visiting at all, giving up on him and picking up the pieces of their lives with him no longer in it.

He had told Agent Collins of the torture and murder of Luca Del Marco but the faint sense of hope he carried with him flickered out when the FBI agent told him it wouldn't be enough to bring the Malucci brothers down. "We need more than that," the other man had told him.

"But I saw it, I was there. Isn't that enough?" he countered.

"Not unless you can bring me the murder weapon with Frankie's prints on it, can you do that?" the agent asked, deliberately goading him

"Not without getting caught, surely my statement is enough to at least get him arrested." He knew he was grasping at straws, but his desperation to get out of the undercover operation now consumed his every waking thought.

"And who would believe you? A former NYPD detective who lied to his colleagues and tampered with evidence, the defence attorney would tear you to strips in minutes."

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, "What is it that you expect me to do, what evidence do you need to make the charges stick?"

"I need cast-iron proof of the brother's involvement in their criminal activities; perhaps it would be prudent for you to wear a wire."

"No. No way," he balked at the agent's suggestion. "Benny still doesn't trust me; I get patted down every time I'm called to meet with them. If they find a wire on me I'm a dead man."

"Then maybe you should work at strengthening your position within the organisation, become their right hand man, so to speak."

"But that could take months, I'm not sure I can keep it up for that long." The thought of carrying on with this façade all but drained the little bit of hope he'd had when he entered the meeting.

"You don't have a choice, Kelly. Who do you think got the possession charges against you dropped?" The FBI agent adjusted his tie before continuing, "You've just admitted you were present at the murder of Luca Del Marco, which makes you an accessory to the fact. If you walk away now you'll be looking at a long stretch in Rikers, I'm sure there are some inmates who'd love to thank you for putting them there."

He realised the other man was right; he was in too deep now to try to crawl his way out. He was out of options; the only choice he had was to carry on until Collins was satisfied he had something to pin on the Malucci brothers. "How long is this going to go on for?" he asked defeated.

"For as long as it takes for you to bring me the information I need. We need more on how the organisation works, where they store their drugs and how they launder their money, most importantly we need a direct link to Frankie and Benny and the criminal activity."

"I'm never getting out of this, am I?" he asked quietly.

"Not until your work is done, or you get caught out. Whichever comes first."

* * *

Since his meeting with Agent Collins he'd kept his head down and concentrated on keeping up appearances with the Malucci brothers. At first they had given him menial tasks like collecting protection money or shaking down local drug dealers for their profits. He found that the physical side of the job came remarkably easy to him, beating information out of small-time criminals became and everyday occurrence. There were no feelings of guilt when he pounded them into the sidewalk; punks like them had poisoned the streets of his city with their junk. He rationalised that he was doing the NYPD a favour; he never hurt them enough to kill them but just enough to keep them out of action for a while. _"Another thug off the streets," _he would tell himself as he walked away from the bruised and battered body of his latest unsuspecting victim. Each night he would burn the gloves and clothes he had worn, destroying the evidence of his violent actions before trying to blank the day from his mind. The message the Malucci's sent to the people who didn't pay up was clear, it didn't matter if his victims saw his face; they would be too scared to say anything to the police for fear of retribution.

He found the whole business of extorting money from innocent and hardworking people much harder to stomach. There was simply no way he could justify what the Malucci's had asked him to do. He hated himself as he threatened shopkeepers and landlords for their profits; sometimes the mere threat of violence was not enough. More convincing methods were needed in some circumstances, smashing the place up usually had the desired effect and made the business owners turn over their money. Through it all he refused to use physical violence on any of them, they were innocent victims of a cruel criminal organisation. They done nothing wrong, they didn't deserve to be threatened and beaten. Many of them had wives and children, the look of fear on their faces as he entered their establishments and took their money made him feel sick. He would shove the money he had collected into a bag, refusing to touch it with his bare hands before getting it back the Malucci's as quick as he could.

Soon the brothers began to trust him with more of the day-to-day running of the organisation, showing him how their operation worked and as the months rolled by he had risen to the rank of lieutenant. He grew frustrated that the information he relayed to the FBI never seemed to be enough, Collins had asked him once more to wear a wire and still he refused even though he was no longer searched each time he met with the brothers. He kept on refusing the agent's requests until one fateful night everything changed.

**A/N: Sorry to leave it on a bit of a cliffhanger but I'll be away for a few days and won't be able to post any new chapters until I return.**


	40. Chapter 40

**Sorry for the delay, here's the next part. Please note that this chapter contains subject matter that some people may find upsetting, I have been careful to allude to the incident without describing it graphically but it is essential to power the story forward.**

**May I also ask my loyal readers and reviewers to take the time to read the work of my good friend CSIMiamilove as she has just started posting on this site, I'm sure you will agree that she is a bright new talent and a welcome addition to our little band of merry CSI Miami writers. Thanks!**

**Present day. Miami:**

"What happened to make him change his mind?" Calleigh asked with trepidation, she knew he must have hated what he had already done. What could be that much worse that it would convince him to risk everything to ensure the Malucci brothers were put behind bars?

For the first time since she'd spoken to him Agent Collins seemed unsure as to how to answer her question. "Perhaps its better if you don't know the finer details, suffice to say it was the final straw for your colleague."

"What happened?" she pressed, "I need to know."

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1995:**

John Kelly sighed deeply as he pulled a shirt from his wardrobe and put it on; his presence had been requested at the opening night of the new Malucci establishment. For all intents and purposes the nightclub was to be a legitimate business venture for the brothers although he knew otherwise; it was just a convenient way to launder their dirty money. Benny had told him to dress smartly and arrive promptly at 9pm and that the evening would be worth his while. He knew what Benny meant by that, prostitutes and easy lays. The thought of any kind of physical union with one of those desperate young girls made his stomach turn; no matter how lonely he was he refused to take advantage of a woman.

Putting on his leather jacket he left his apartment and made his way to his car, he had told Collins of the opening night of the Leather and Lace nightclub and knew FBI agents would be in the area keeping watch. He hoped that they would stay well out of sight tonight; he'd worked hard to build a level of trust with the brothers and was finally beginning to see how the organisation was run. Collins had been pressuring him to wear a wire but he'd been reluctant so far, witnessing the bloody end to Luca Del Marco's life had shown that the Malucci's did not take kindly to betrayal. He'd hoped that the information he'd been passing to the FBI would be enough to nail the brothers but still Collins pushed him for more, he knew in himself when the time would be right to put everything on the line and get the evidence needed to put the mobsters behind bars for good.

The drive to the seedy nightclub was a relatively short one, he pulled up at the back of the building and made his way through the throng of patrons already dancing and drinking the night away. He winced at the volume of the monotonous music being blared through the speakers, he could barely hear himself think let alone hear what anyone else was saying. Making his way to the office he was grateful when he reached the corridor and could shut out the noise from the main hall. He closed the door and breathed in relief as the pounding beat of the music was reduced to a dull thump. He knocked and waited for the brothers to usher him in.

"Kelly, are you enjoying your evening?" Frankie asked as he took a long drag from his cigar.

_"No, I can't stand it," _he wanted to say but smiled instead, "Sure, looks like you've done a great job with the place. The queues outside are already halfway down the block."

"That's what we want to see, fill the club with kids and drugs."

The brothers began to laugh at Frankie's comment and soon the other men in the room joined in, he forced himself to smile as much as he could.

They had spent the next hour or so discussing plans for the upcoming week, the regular shakedowns of local business owners, when new drug shipments were coming in and even plans for a second nightclub were discussed. Through the entire time he kept a mental note of times, places and the people involved, thanking God for his good memory. _"Maybe this would be a hell of a lot easier if I was wearing a wire," _he thought to himself as watched the brothers talk excitedly about the prospect of new business.

The conversations died down when there was a knock at the door, at Benny's nod he got up to open it and found a scantily dressed young woman on the other side standing next to one of the group's goons. "Ah, the entertainment has arrived," Frankie said as he rubbed his hands together with glee, "Bring her in, Nicky."

John took a good look at the girl, she looked no older than twenty-one and had clearly had far too much to drink. Her provocative attire signalled that she had come to the club looking for one thing but the way her escort was holding her tightly by the arm made him feel deeply uncomfortable, he wasn't sure but he thought the girl might be having second thoughts about being invited backstage and into a room full of leering men.

"Kelly, why don't you go and get yourself a drink." Benny suggested as he pointed to the door, he was reluctant to leave, fearing for the girl's safety. "I'm not asking, Kelly." The menacing tone in the mobster's voice made the other men in the room grow quiet.

He nodded his head and left the room praying that the young girl could look after herself. He sat at the bar and ordered a scotch, as he was nursing it a beautiful brunette sidled up to him and leant seductively over the bar as she ordered a drink. She gave him a wolfish smile and moved closer to him, he kept his eyes on his scotch and tried to make it clear he wasn't interested. She moved closer still until her breasts were almost touching him, "Hey, honey. You look awfully lonely up here on your own, wanna come and dance with me?" She fluttered her eyelashes at him.

He ran a hand over his mouth, "Sorry, not in the mood tonight. Maybe some other time?"

She looked shell-shocked that he'd turned her down and more than a little insulted, "Your loss, prick." She huffed and made her way back to the dance floor as he downed the remainder of his scotch and ordered another to celebrate his lucky escape. Time seemed to pass quickly and before he knew it was almost midnight, he'd been careful not to drink too much, he knew he needed to keep his wits about him on a night like tonight.

He made his way back to the office and knocked on the door, upon entering the room he saw one of his fellow lieutenant's pulling up his pants and tucking his shirt back in. His eyes dropped to the snivelling young woman lying on the floor in the middle of the room, desperately trying to pull her skirt back down. He seethed with anger as the realisation of what had happened sunk in, he forced himself to keep a lid on his temper and remain neutral. Benny turned to look at him, "How's it going out there, any trouble?"

He kept his eyes on the woman on the floor, "No, it's fine. No problems so far." He did his best to keep his voice level.

"Good, do me a favour and take the trash out, will you?" the mobster pointed to the floor.

He nodded his head and helped the girl up, "Come on, let's go," he told her ask he took her by the arm and pulled her from the room. She looked up at him and flinched as he made contact with her.

Once they were out of the room he closed the door behind him and took a good look at her, he could see the cuts and bruises on her face and chest were evidence that she had tried to fight back and that whatever had happened to her she had not been a willing participant in. She shrugged his hand off of her arm and stumbled as she tried to walk away from him, he checked to see if anyone was watching them before he caught her as she fell; she looked up at him with panicked eyes. "Please," she begged, "Don't hurt me; I'll do whatever you want." She closed her eyes and waited for him to force himself on her.

It took a few moments for her words to register, "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. Let me take you somewhere safe."

"No, you're just like the others."

"I promise you I'm not." He rubbed his thumb up and down her arm trying to comfort her, "Let me take you to a hospital, you need to get checked out."

She shook her head, "No, if they find out they'll kill me."

"At least let me drive you home," she looked uncertain, "Please?" Finally she nodded and allowed him to help her to his car.

"Where do you live?" he asked as he started the car and pulled away from the curb.

"Queens," she answered shakily.

He gave her a small smile, "Me too. How old are you?"

"Twenty-two. I came out with my friends tonight, I got chatting to what I thought was a nice guy. He said he could take me backstage to meet the owners and maybe get me a job as one of their dancers."

"Did they force themselves on you?" He didn't want to ask but he knew he had to.

"I…..I…thought I was going back there to dance, to show them what I could do." She sniffed as tears welled in her eyes.

"It's ok," he tried to reassure her. "You've got to report it; no one deserves to be the victim of a sexual assault."

"Look at me," she replied grabbing hold of her skimpy top, "The cops will think I asked for it."

He turned to look at her, "Nobody ever asks to be raped," he said firmly. "Let me take you to the hospital, please."

Tears welled in her eyes as her bottom lip quivered, "I won't be safe if I go, they'll start asking questions and get the police involved."

"Please, you need to report it. When you get to the hospital ask to speak to Andy Sipowicz at the 15th precinct, he'll be able to help you."

She looked at him uncertainly, "How do I know I can trust him, what if he's just like the others at the club?"

"He's not, he's a good man. You can trust him."

"You know him?"

"I did," he replied succinctly.

Her eyes narrowed, "Are you a cop?"

He sighed sadly, "Not anymore."

After driving another few blocks he pulled up the car outside a hospital and stopped the engine, the young woman looked at him uncertainly again. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea, what if they come after me?"

"Let me worry about that. You have to report it; you can't let them get away with it."

"But they're bad people, they'll find out where I live," she replied as she tried to talk her way out of it.

"I'll deal with them. Please, go." He inclined his head towards the Emergency Room.

She gave him a long look, "I don't know much about you, and hell I don't even know your name." She looked to the hospital and then back to him, "I know you're a good man though, thank you." He gave her a small smile as she exited the car and made her way to the hospital entrance. Only when she had entered the building did he allow his anger to come to the surface, one way or another he would make the Malucci's pay for what they had done to her.


	41. Chapter 41

**Here's the next part for you, I hope you enjoy:**

**Miami. Present Day:**

She felt the heavy burden on her heart lighten a little, it was exactly the actions of the man that she had come to care for so deeply. "So he agreed to wear a wire for you?"

"Yes. I remember our meeting the day after the club opening, he was seething. He wanted to blow the whole operation up there and then and go in all guns blazing; I had a hard time getting him to maintain his focus on the job at hand."

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1995:**

He sat in the same the car park for their regular rendezvous; he'd hardly slept since he dropped the girl from the club at the hospital. The urge to tear the Malucci's and their associates to pieces was all-consuming, he had stood back and watched innocent people extorted for money but what they had done last night had crossed way over the line.

Agent Collins pulled up in the underground car park next to him and lowered his window. "How did it go last night?"

"You had eyes on the place, why are you asking me?"

The other man gave him an amused look, "Get out of the wrong side of bed this morning did we?"

"I haven't got time for games; let's just get to the point."

"And what would that be?"

"I'll do it, I'll wear the wire."

His words took the FBI agent by surprise, "What changed your mind?" John spent the next five minutes or so revealing the callous actions of the mobsters. "I see," the dark-suited man replied thoughtfully.

"I want those bastards to pay for what they did, when I've finished with them they'll wish they'd never been born."

"How chivalrous of you, Kelly. Risking it all for a girl you don't even know, are you sure it's worth it?"

"Of course it is, I'm not going to stop until all of them are behind bars or dead." He stated firmly.

"Be careful; don't let your anger cloud your judgement. You still need to tow the party line until we have the evidence we need."

"I don't care, I just want to get it done, and I'm tired of playing nice with these animals."

"Very well," the agent replied as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a notepad, he scribbled something down and passed it over. "Meet me at this address in two hours."

Pinning Collins with a stare he spoke, "I told her to report it to the police, they'll come after her. I want your word that you'll protect her until this is over."

"I'll do what I can," the agent replied dismissively.

"You'll do better than that, you'll protect her," he said as his voice rose in anger. "If the Malucci's get to her I'm going to hunt you down and bury you next."

Collins said nothing as his window came back up; his car reversed out of the space and exited the car park.

* * *

He returned home that evening with the listening equipment that FBI had supplied him with, concentrating as Collins told him how to operate it. He tried to focus on the information he was being given but found his thoughts constantly returning to the events of last night. _"I should never have left her alone," _he castigated himself, _"What happened to her is your fault."_

Collins was right; he needed to keep his head if he wanted to bring the brothers and their goons down once and for all. Acting as if nothing was wrong would be the hardest thing to do since the whole sorry operation had started, to maintain the façade that he didn't care what had happened to the girl would take all of his strength.

Picking up the note on the doormat he opened it with a sense of dread, the young girl had done as he asked and called Andy. He tried to keep his hands still as he read the words, **"Warehouse in Brooklyn, ASAP. We need to talk."**

He used to be a cop, he knew how it worked. The girl had told them what had happened and now Andy and his new partner were knocking on doors and ruffling feathers. Benny would want an explanation for how she'd got away and made it to a hospital. He knew all eyes would be on him, demanding an explanation. Pacing the living room he tried to think of something to explain how the frightened young woman had escaped. Walking in to the bathroom he took a look at his reflection in the mirror and suddenly it occurred to him. He turned towards the corner of the door and took a deep breath before slamming his head into the corner of the wood. He groaned as he stumbled backwards with a hand to his forehead, he took it away and saw the blood on his hand. _"Perfect." _

Shaking his head to clear it he walked back over to the sink and cleaned himself up as best he could, waiting until the wound above his eye had dried over. The inch long cut through his eyebrow looked pretty gruesome and his forehead had already started to swell along with his eye. It had been painful but served a purpose, he needed to convince the brothers that he hadn't let her go willingly. He swallowed a couple of aspirin before leaving his apartment and heading to Brooklyn.

"What took you so long?"

"I've been busy, Benny. I've only just got your message." He replied curtly, his head pounding.

"What have you been doing all day?"

He was finding it hard to contain his hatred for the mobster in front of him, "Running around for you, what else would I be doing?"

"I'm not sure you understood my instructions when I told you to take the trash out last night." Benny stood and paced the room.

"What do you mean?" he asked innocently.

"Some of our guys had a visit from the cops this morning, seems the little bitch is still alive. I thought I told you to deal with her."

He gestured to his face, "She caught me by surprise, by the time I came round she was gone. I've been spending all day looking for her," he lied.

The mobster stopped pacing and pinned him with a fearful glare, "You expect me to believe a guy like you got jumped by a girl?" he asked incredulously.

"She had a can of mace and sprayed me with it, next thing I know she's walloped me in the head with something. Like I said, she ran off."

Benny stood in front of him, looking menacing. "Let me make this clear so we understand each other, I want her hunted down and dealt with. Understand?"

"Sure, I'll do my best," he replied vaguely.

"You'll do it, Kelly, or I'll find someone who will."

Wearing the wire he tried to get the brothers to incriminate themselves, "Why would the girl go to the police, what happened here last night?"

"We had a little fun with the bitch, didn't we guys?" The other men in the room started laughing. "The way she was dressed we knew she was gagging for it."

"She wanted it. With all of you?"

"Let's just say that she stopped saying no after a little while."

He would have given it all up to smack the shit-eating grin off of Benny's face as the portly man stood in front of him. _"Keep your cool; we need more than a half-confession to put these bastards away."_

* * *

He met up with Collins later that day and handed him the recording of his conversation with the Malucci's. "Well, what do you think?"

The FBI agent removed his sunglasses and glanced at him, "It's a start. The NYPD are investigating her sexual assault claims, they're waiting on DNA from the SAE kit to come back."

"And when they do it'll be enough to put them away, right?"

"We need more than that; we need evidence linking them to all of their criminal activities. When we take them down and they find out it was you who betrayed them you''ll be praying that they lock them up and throw away the key."

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, frustrated that he would have to keep the act up for longer. "Fine, I'll keep it up until you've got what you need and then I'm out."

"Understood, Mr Kelly." Collins gave him a small smile and he was taken aback by the first show of warmth or emotion from the dark-suited man.


	42. Chapter 42

**Due to family and work commitments this may be the last chapter I'll be able to post for a couple of days.**

**Miami. Present day:**

"How much longer did you keep him undercover?" Calleigh asked.

"Another six months or so, we needed to make sure we had enough to bring the organisation down for good. The information that your colleague had given us would only go so far, nothing short of a verbal declaration of the brothers involvement would give us the ammunition we needed to make all the charges stick."

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1996:**

He felt as thought he'd been undercover so long that he was having a hard time remembering his life before it had started. He still missed his loved ones dearly but knew that they had all moved on with their lives without him. The one thing that kept him going these days was the thought of the Malucci brothers and their henchmen behind bars. Each time his strength wavered he forced himself to remember the sobbing and broken girl he had carried from the nightclub and he found all the incentive he needed to carry on.

As the months passed he became more adept at making sure Frankie and Benny incriminated themselves on tape, Collins made encouraging noises but kept telling him he needed more. It would only be a matter of time before the brothers arrogance would lead to their inevitable downfall.

* * *

He was woken by the shrill ringing of his phone; he wiped a tired hand of his bleary eyes and made a grab for the receiver. "Hello?" he answered sleepily.

"Kelly, I have a job for you." Frankie's voice was terse and to the point.

He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes again, trying to clear the fog of sleep from his mind. "It's a bit early isn't it? What's so important?"

"Never mind what time it is. One of our distributors has been mouthing off to one of our competitors; word is he's giving them the skinny on our operations. The asswipe thinks he can sell us out to the highest bidder"

"What's that got to do with me?"

"I want you to find the little punk and bring him to me, I'm gonna show him a little Malucci justice."

He groaned inwardly, he knew exactly what that meant. "Fine, any idea where I can find him?"

"You used to be a cop, you figure it out. I want him by the end of the day, Kelly."

He replaced the receiver back in the cradle and blew out a long breath at the thought of spending another day pounding the streets looking for his quarry. _"Kind of reminds me of the old days," _he thought sadly, longing for the time when he was still a cop.

Although no longer part of the NYPD the detective in him was still as sharp as ever, greasing a few palms and knocking some heads together had resulted in him locating his target. He found Nicky Truro hanging on a street corner with a bunch of hangers-on hovering around him. Exiting his car he crossed the street to greet the younger man, "Nicky, long time, no see," he began as he walked closer.

The group of youths adopted aggressive stances and prepared to protect their leader, "What do you want, Red?" the young dealer replied cockily.

He gestured his head to the crowd, "Tell your lady friends to take a hike." He placed his hands on his hips making sure his 9mm was in full view.

The group bristled at the comment and prepared to fight until Nicky signalled for them to leave. "What's this about?" he asked as they dispersed.

"Frankie wants a word with you."

"You his lapdog now, Red?" The young dealer tried to goad him.

"Nope, just the messenger. We can do this the hard way if you like."

Nicky considered his options before nodding his head and walking forwards with his hands up. Suddenly the younger man bolted and pushed past him, John growled as he gave chase. Three blocks later and Nicky was cornered as he tried desperately to climb over an 8 foot wire fence. Grabbing the drug dealer by the coat he dragged him back down to the ground, in one final effort to escape Nicky threw a punch that John easily blocked before he countered with one of his own.

Nicky's mouth and arrogance were obviously much better than his fighting skills as he was quickly subdued. He dragged him back to his car after securing his hands behind his back with a plastic cable tie before forcing him in to the back seat.

He said nothing as he drove to the warehouse in Brooklyn, glancing occasionally in the rear view mirror to keep an eye on his captive passenger. Arriving at his destination he opened the rear car door and dragged Nicky out into the blazing sunshine of a warm New York summer's day. The drug dealer began to plead for his life, "You can't take me in there, man, they'll kill me."

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you started flapping that jaw of yours." He pushed Nicky through the doorway and into the warehouse before taking him to the office. He knocked once and then entered, pushing Nicky into the room in front of him. "He's all yours," he said as he took a seat at the rear of the room, placing a hand lightly on the recording equipment he was carrying under his shirt.

Benny gave him an impressed look, "Good work, Kelly. That didn't take you long."

He gave the mobster a smug smile but didn't respond. Soon the attention in the room had returned to Nicky who was squirming as he was forced to sit on a stiff wooden chair.

Frankie rose and walked towards the drug dealer, "You've been running that mouth of yours off, Nicky. Do you know what we do with people who do that?"

Nicky gulped nervously and tried in vain to loosen his bindings, "I haven't told anybody anything. I swear!"

"Don't lie to me, boy!" Frankie shouted as he backhanded Nicky across the face. "I know exactly what you've been up to; did you think you could get away with it?"

The young man crumbled as he began snivelling, "I just wanted more power and respect, and they said I'd get it if I gave them the info on you. I'm sorry, Frankie. Please don't hurt me!"

The mobster grabbed Nicky by the shirt and snarled in his face, "When will punks like you learn, we own this city!" He pulled the knife from his pocket and flicked it open before commanding one of his men to hold Nicky's head still. Forcing the young man's mouth open he grabbed his tongue and cut it off with his knife. Frankie ignored Nicky's screams of pain as he shouted, "This is what happens to people who can't keep their mouth shut!" He held up the severed tongue to emphasise his point before throwing it carelessly on the floor.

Bloodlust seemed to overcome the mobster as he began stabbing his hapless victim with the knife repeatedly until Nicky stopped moving. John closed his eyes and tried to block out the wet sounds on knife plunging into flesh and the gargled screams that accompanied each blow.

He was thankful when the task of disposal was handed to someone else, eager to be dismissed by the brothers so that he could contact Collins again. After months of waiting they had finally secured the information they needed to bring the crime organisation down. There was no way the brothers would wriggle their way out of this one, all he had to do was pass the recordings on to the agent and he would be free from the nightmare his life had become.


	43. Chapter 43

**I'd just like to wish my good friend CSIMiamilove a very happy birthday today, I hope you had a great day!**

**Flashback. New York 1996:**

"Good work, Kelly," Collins said as he placed the recording into the pocket of his overcoat as they sat in his car. "Looks like your work here is done."

"What happens now?"

"We put you in to witness protection and you keep your head down."

"This is it though; you're going to bring the Malucci's down, aren't you?"

"In time, the first thing we need to do is get you out of sight. When the shit hits the fan it isn't going to take long for the brothers to realise that it was you who betrayed them." Collins leant forward and turned the key in the ignition, "Let's get you out of here and into hiding."

"Wait," he said as he held a hand up. "I can't just leave; I need to collect some things before I go."

"We don't have time for this, whatever it is you can buy another one when we've got you out of the city."

"No, I have to go back and get them," he replied firmly, standing his ground. "I'm not going anywhere until I've got them." He crossed his arms over his chest to emphasise his point.

Collins glared at him, "Fine. We'll go past your place, you'll have ten minutes or I'm leaving without you."

True to his word the taciturn FBI agent took him back to his apartment, he ran up the stairs two at a time and bustled in to the darkness of his living room, scrabbling around until he'd found what he was looking for. He ran a finger over the creased and worn photos before slipping them into his jacket; he took one last look around the apartment before leaving and locking the door behind him. His life in New York would soon be over but he wanted to commit to memory as much as he could before he was forced to leave.

Collins pulled the car up outside a distinctly expensive four star hotel in Manhattan, "Welcome to your new home, Kelly."

He looked at the high-rise building and its opulent surroundings in some surprise, "You're putting me up here?"

The FBI agent tutted, "If I had a choice you'd be staying in a hostel, the government is paying for your accommodation so you better appreciate it." Collins handed him a baseball cap, "Here, put this on before you get out of the car."

He gave the other man a disgusted look as he turned the hat around in his hands, "You expect me to wear a Nets hat, are you kidding me?" he exclaimed, affronted that Collins would make him wear such a monstrosity.

"Really, Mr Kelly. There are more important things to worry about than your NBA affiliations. The whole point of the exercise is so that you _don't _get noticed."

He couldn't argue with his point. He huffed as he pulled the hat on roughly and followed Collins in to the hotel.

Following the agent out of the lift on the 15th floor he could already see a number of sombre-looking FBI operatives standing guard throughout the hallway. None of them paid him any attention as he walked past them. Collins showed him into a room and closed the door behind him.

He took in the luxurious interior of the room as he threw the hat off, "Nice place," he said as he sat down on the bed.

"I hope you enjoy it, Kelly. You won't be leaving this room until the Malucci's are in custody."

"You're kidding me, right?" he ran a hand over his face and felt the three-day old stubble on his chin. "I'm just supposed to sit here and wait?"

Collins walked towards the window and glanced out, "That's the general idea."

"How long are you going to keep me here?" He knew he sounded more than a little petulant but he was desperate for the undercover operation to be over so that he could move on with what was left of his life.

"You're lucky you're not spending your time in a prison cell along with the rest of your associates. Do not look a gift horse in the face, Mr Kelly."

"We had a deal, Collins. I did what you asked; you've got to get me out of here before they find me." He tried to keep the sliver of fear he was feeling from his voice.

"Sit tight and wait for word from me. You are not to leave this room, are we clear?"

The agent pinned him with a stern look, "Fine. Just get it done and then get me out of here."

Before leaving Collins demanded he hand over his wallet, keys, gun and watch but would not tell him what he wanted them for, leaving him puzzled as to what the sneaky agent would do with them.

* * *

After spending five days in a hotel room he was starting to go more than a little crazy at being cooped up. Sitting still was not in his nature and pacing the perimeter of the room soon began to lose its appeal. He hankered for the freedom to go out jogging to let off steam but each time he tried to sneak out of the room he would find himself face to face with at least two fearsome-looking FBI agents. He couldn't complain about the room service, they had fed him well. Three square meals a day had been something of a rarity during his undercover mission, many days he had gone without eating much at all. On the first day of his hotel imprisonment they had brought him steak and chips, he hadn't realised just how hungry he was until he devoured the whole plate of food like a starved man. Anything he asked for was delivered to his room quickly but still he was denied the one thing he longed for the most. Freedom.

He lay on the bed, head propped up by a multitude of pillows reading a crime novel. The phone rang beside the bed and made him jump, placing the book down he answered it, "Hello?"

"Kelly, turn on the TV, Channel 6." It was Collins and from the tone of the voice it was an order, not a request.

With the cordless phone in one hand he walked over to the television remote and turned the 40" screen on. He sat back on the bed as he watched the news report:

_"The remains of a body were found under the Brooklyn Bridge early Tuesday morning by passers-by. In a press release by the NYPD the identity of the body is believed to be that of John Kelly, a former detective at the 15__th__ precinct in Manhattan. _

_Kelly was dismissed from the NYPD for his association with the Malucci crime family in 1994. It's believed that the former police officer became an integral part of the organisation and that his death may be linked to a recent turf dispute with a rival group._

_The body was found badly burnt and mutilated but the NYPD are confident that the remains are that of John Kelly who is believed to have been missing for the past 5 days. Cause of death is yet to be determined and the police are still trying to ascertain which group is responsible for the death of the former detective. We'll bring you more information as we get it."_

"They think you're dead, Kelly." Agent Collins stern voice brought him back to reality with a bump.

"Who was that?"

"Just a poor, recently deceased male who matched your description."

"You did that to the body?" he asked, still shocked.

"He was dead already, I'm sure he didn't feel it," Collins deadpanned. "The only way you'll get out of this alive is if everyone thinks you're dead. We had to make the body unrecognisable but give the police enough clues to think it was you."

"What happens now, won't the Malucci's want to know what happened?"

"That's why it's important you keep out of sight. It won't be long now before we bring them in and send them away for good."


	44. Chapter 44

**Here's the next part for you, I hope you enjoy:**

**Flashback. New York 1996:**

He sat watching the news in his hotel room three days later, raids were happening all across the city as the Malucci's and their associates were tracked down and arrested by the FBI. The six o'clock news had called it, "The biggest coup of the decade." He breathed a deep sigh of relief as he watched Frankie being dragged from a black SUV towards the federal building, shouting threats at the agents who surrounded him.

The programme also showed a clip of Agent Collins speaking to the press gathered outside the FBI field office telling the eager reporters that they had enough evidence to bring the crime organisation down for good.

He looked up as he heard someone enter his room, Collins stood by the bed with his hands on his hips. "You've heard the good news then?" he asked as he motioned his head to the television.

"You have them all in custody?"

"Yep, every last one of them. It helped that we had plenty of intel on where to find them."

He wasn't sure if he detected the slightest bit of warmth in the agent's voice although Collins facial expression and body language gave away little. "It's over then?"

"Yes. All that's left now is to get you out of the city, we need to put you somewhere you won't be found."

He nodded his head, and then asked. "When's the funeral?"

Collins looked at him puzzled, "What funeral?"

"Mine," he replied, his voice barely a whisper.

"Tomorrow morning, 10am. You'll be gone by then anyway." Collins had returned to his cold and unfeeling demeanour.

"No," He said firmly, "I want to go. I have to go," he corrected himself.

The other man let out an exasperated sigh, "What would be the point in that?"

He looked at Collins, pleading with his eyes for him to understand. "It's going to be the last time I'll see the people I care about. After everything I've done for you, you owe me that at least."

* * *

Sitting in the back of a black sedan car he watched solemnly as his old friend and priest Father Jerry Downey led the service. His heart sank as he looked at the three mourners who had attended his funeral, Lori, Robin and Lieutenant Fancy all dressed in black. This wasn't how he'd imagined he'd go out; the department had refused to issue a ceremonial burial. _"Why would they? They all think I'm a dirty cop," _he said to himself as he watched his coffin being lowered in to the ground.

Lieutenant Fancy embraced both women and whispered something to each of them before making his way from the cemetery. He desperately wanted to get out of the car and tell them all that he was still alive. "Don't even think about it," Collins growled as he gripped his arm tightly before nodding to the driver to pull away. Keeping his eyes on Robin and Lori he stared at them until they were out of view, hoping to commit their images to memory as they moved further in to the distance.

* * *

He woke with a start; Collins looked at him and gave him a wry smile. "Having a bad dream, were we?" he goaded.

He rubbed a weary hand over his face and adjusted the cap on his head, "Where are we?"

"Philadelphia."

"Where are we going?"

"Florida," Collins replied disinterestedly.

He sat up straighter, "Why the hell are we going there?"

Collins turned and looked at him, "Your new life. We're sending you to live in Miami."

"What am I supposed to do there? It's halfway across the country for God's sake."

Collins reached down and pulled a manila envelope out before throwing it in the redhead's lap. "The drive will give you plenty of time to learn about your new identity."

He opened the envelope cautiously and pulled out the file inside, his eyes widened as he read the contents. "I think you've made a mistake here," he said as he shook his head in disbelief.

"What would that be?" Collins replied smugly.

"It says here I'm being transferred to the Miami Dade Police Department. As a detective."

"That's correct."

Taking the hat off he scratched his head before placing it on the seat beside him. "How is that possible? I was thrown out of the NYPD."

The FBI agent moved in his seat, "About that, I might have given you the wrong impression about your dismissal from the force."

"I don't understand," he asked, perplexed.

"The photos, the search warrant, your arrest. They were all part of your cover story."

It took a few moments for the meaning of the other man's words to sink in. "You lied to me?" He could feel the anger build inside him.

"You were never formally dismissed from the NYPD, only those in the highest places knew of your assignment."

"How could you do that to me? I thought I'd lost everything!" Clenching his fists he tried to contain the white-hot fury surging through his veins.

"You needed to be as authentic as possible; I did it to ensure your safety, Mr Kelly."

"You bastard!" he shouted as he lunged for the arrogant FBI agent and grabbed him by his jacket. "How could you do that to me?"

Grabbing the angry redhead's hands he loosened them from his clothes as he spoke, "I did what was necessary. If I were you I'd spend less time trying to rip my head off and more time reading about your new life. We'll be in Miami by tomorrow."

* * *

He realised that he must have fallen asleep at some point as he woke to bright sunshine, the folder fell from his lap as he sat up straighter. "We're nearly there," Collins said as he sipped on a take-out cup of coffee before handing one to him.

"What am I supposed to do when I get there, where do I go?"

"You'll be dropped off at the MDPD headquarters, look inside the envelope again, Mr Kelly."

Peering into it he could see two sets of keys, he tipped them out on to his hand. "What are these for?" he asked as he held them up.

"Your new house and car. The address is in the folder, you'll find the car parked at the police headquarters."

"That's it, you're just going to kick me out and leave me there on my own?"

"You're work here is done. I have no further use for you." Collins tone was cruel and harsh.

"What about money, bank accounts? You can't just leave me here with nothing."

"It has all been taken care of, you'll find all the information you'll need in the folder," the agent responded as if he were talking to a child.

A few hours later the government-issued sedan pulled up outside the Miami Dade Police Headquarters. "Here's where we part, Kelly." The FBI agent motioned for him to get out of the car which he did reluctantly. "You're to ask for a Detective Frank Tripp, he's your new partner. Good luck."

Collins rolled down the window, "You know, you would have made a decent FBI agent," he mused before driving off, leaving him standing alone on the curb of a strange and alien city. He realised then that he was far from home and all alone with no one to rely on but himself.


	45. Chapter 45

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read and/or review. This is now officially my longest story and shows no signs of coming to an end any time soon...**

**Miami. Present day:**

"And that's pretty much it, Miss Duquesne. Mr Kelly made a new life for himself here in Miami and did quite well for himself so it seems."

"You just dumped him here and left him to fend for himself?" She asked the agent incredulously, how low could this man go?

"Your colleague is nothing if not resourceful. He made a name and a career for himself here in this great city of yours." Collins gave her a sideways look, "I always kept tabs on him and followed his career. Going undercover was the making of him."

"That's where you're wrong, Collins," she spat his name in anger. "Horatio is the man he is today despite all the crap you put him through." She realised then why the redhead had such a dislike for government officials if the man sitting across from her was anything to go by.

"I tried to warn him, Miss Duquesne. It's not my fault he didn't heed my warnings and move on before the Malucci's tracked him down. I told him it would only be a matter of time before they figured out he was still alive."

"Why should he have to run away? He has family here now." She responded defiantly.

"That always was his biggest weakness; he always let people get too close. That's when things get messy."

"We're a team, we stick together. Whatever the Malucci's try to throw at him we'll beat it. Together."

He gave her a small smile, "While I don't doubt your sincerity I would be remiss if I didn't point out that you and your 'team' are vastly outnumbered."

"We've taken down bigger organisations than a couple of gangsters; whatever they throw at us we'll be ready."

"That as may be, Miss Duquesne. But have you ever taken on hardened criminals that are hell-bent on revenge against your colleague at any cost?" Calleigh narrowed her eyes but remained silent. "Benny died in prison last year but before he did so he taught his son Gianni everything there was to know about the family business."

"What happened to Frankie, surely he'll never be released from prison?"

"Alas the elder Malucci's health is in a state of decline, lung cancer I believe. He also passed down the family secrets to his son, Danny. Imagine the young man's surprise when he vacationed here in Miami a few months ago and saw the familiar face of an old family friend. He reported back to his father and showed him undeniable proof that John Kelly was alive and well. Frankie's dying wish was that his son avenges him and brings down your colleague at any cost."

"Why wait until now?"

"Gianni and Danny have spent time rebuilding the family legacy; my colleagues in the New York field office have been monitoring their activity for quite a while now. Those boys aren't in the same league as their fathers but they have slowly built a powerbase up there. Technology is a wonderful thing; the pair of them have used its potential to further their ventures into other states. You'd do well to know that the boys have eyes everywhere, including Miami."

"I know," she responded quietly. At Collins questioning look she continued, "Horatio had a package delivered earlier, a box full of surveillance photos of everyone at the lab."

"I see. I don't envy your task, Miss Duquesne. You and your team need to keep your guard up, the Malucci boys are sneaky and smart and are after one thing only, your friend dead and buried."

"I won't let that happen," she said with conviction.

Collins handed her a folder, "Here's everything we have on the new Malucci organisation. They may be young but don't be fooled by that, the chances are they'll hit you when you least expect it. They're after his blood and they'll stop at nothing until they get it."

* * *

The last few hours had been uncomfortable for everyone in the sterile-smelling hospital room; Andy had filled in as many blanks as he could in John's memory. Several times he had stopped mid-sentence when he saw the pained look on his former partner's face but relented when John pleaded with him to continue.

Eric knew they still had more questions than answers but was silently glad that Andy was softening in his stance towards Horatio. He had hated to see his brother in law's anguish as Andy recounted the past but Horatio was insistent that the other man continue even if he didn't like what he was hearing.

The stilted conversation in the room stopped altogether as someone knocked softly on the door; Horatio pulled himself up higher in the bed and rubbed a weary hand over his face. Eric placed his hand on his hip, ready to reach for his service weapon if needed, "Come in," he said keeping his voice level. Eric's hand relaxed as he saw Calleigh standing in the doorway but was shocked by her tear-stained face, "Everything ok?" he asked as she walked past him.

She took no notice of Eric's concern; her attention was focused on one thing, the redhead lying in the hospital bed. She sniffed and wiped away her tears as she walked up to him, took his face in both of her hands and planted a loving kiss on his bandaged forehead.

He was beyond confused, by all accounts and purposes they should all hate him right now. "Calleigh, what's going on?"

She kept her hands on his face as she lent her forehead to his, "I spoke to Collins, I know about all of it."

He tried to move away, "Then you should hate me, I betrayed everyone who trusted me. I deserve whatever the Malucci's have got in store for me."

"No, you've got it wrong. I don't hate you, I could never hate you." She kept cupping his face even as he tried to squirm away.

He wasn't sure if it was the head injury or the after-effects of the fever but his pain-riddled mind couldn't process why she was acting so affectionately towards him. "This is wrong; Andy told me what I did. I'm no better than a criminal myself."

She thought her heart would shatter at the pain in his voice, "I know the full story and I think it's about time that you all did." She sat down in the chair beside Horatio's bed and took his hand in hers before she began explaining about her meeting with Agent Collins.

* * *

The sun had set by the time Calleigh had finished recounting the information that Collins had given her; through it all she had kept her voice level and avoided making eye contact with Horatio. All it would take was one look into those soulful blue eyes and she knew that she wouldn't be able to continue. The story of Horatio's past was horrific enough and some part of her prayed that he would never remember those dark and lonely days, to live them once would be bad enough but to experience those feelings again would be beyond cruel. After everything he had given to keep those around him safe she felt that he had earnt the right to a little luck.

Silence filled the room, the only sounds coming from the clock on the wall and the monitors beside the bed. Calleigh risked a look at the man in the bed and saw that his eyes were closed; she hoped that he'd fallen asleep at some point and missed the worst parts of the story of his life. She knew it wasn't to be when he finally spoke, "You should all go; it's too dangerous for you to be here." He opened his eyes and looked at each of them in turn.

Andy was the first to speak up, "You've got to be kidding me, John. Pushing everyone away was what got you into this mess in the first place."

"Please, Andy. After everything I did to you, you should hate me."

The burly former detective walked over to the bed and placed a hand on Horatio's shoulder, "You should be the one hating me right now, John. I should have believed in you but instead I let my damn ego and pride get in the way. I had no idea what you were going through and what you did to protect us. I just wished you'd told me about it," he finished sadly.

Eric spoke up next, "He's right, we know you're a good man. You need to let us help you; we'll deal with these Malucci thugs together. You're not on your own this time."


	46. Chapter 46

**Once again, thanks for all the great reviews and comments, it really does make writing this seem all worthwhile to know that so many people are getting enjoyment from reading it. I'll try my best to keep up the quality and not let you guys down.**

The three of them met outside Horatio's hospital room 48 hours later, each sitting in a hard plastic hospital chair nursing a cup of vending machine coffee. Calleigh was the first to speak up, "We need to get him out of here, and maybe a change of scenery would help lift the funk he's in."

The men nodded their heads solemnly, they too had noticed how much more withdrawn the redhead had become since he'd learnt about his past. Eric cast his mind back to the previous evening when the ward nurse prevented him from entering Horatio's room. "He doesn't want any visitors I'm afraid," she told him sadly. Trying to reason with the nurse proved fruitless and after an hour or so of waiting outside his brother in law's room he admitted defeat and returned home.

"What do you suggest?" Andy asked as he took a swig of his coffee and grimaced at the foul taste.

She ran her finger around the edge of her cardboard cup as she spoke, "I'll take him back to my house, we all know he can't go back to his." A shudder ran through her as she recalled the crime scene photos from Horatio's house at the lab yesterday.

"But the Malucci's have got eyes on all of us, what makes you think he'll be any safer at your place?" Eric couldn't keep the bitter tone from his voice.

"He's not safe anywhere until we catch these animals!" she responded, her voice rising. She took a deep breath to calm herself, "It doesn't matter where he stays as long as we keep him guarded at all times."

Andy interjected, "We all have our own lives, we can't stay with him 24 hours a day."

"Then we'll take it in shifts," she responded defiantly as she stood up. "We owe it to Horatio to do whatever we can, whether he likes it or not."

* * *

Horatio sat on the edge of the hospital bed as Calleigh handed him a clean set of clothes from the bag Eric had collected earlier in the week. "Where are we going?" he asked as pulled the t-shirt over his head and winced as the cloth made contact with the stitched wound on the back of his head.

"It's time to get you out of here," she said as she passed him a pair of black Italian leather shoes. "Put these on, I'm going to sign your release forms before we go. I'll be back soon."

His spirits sank at the clinical tone of her voice; he'd been filled with a small sense of hope when she told him he was being released as he ate breakfast this morning. He detested hospitals; they always reminded him of sorrow and death. The doctor had told him that they'd been reducing the painkillers in his system over the last few days and it had certainly helped him to think a bit more clearly. The drugs in his system had left him weak and emotional and the lack of control over his own body left him feeling frustrated. The bandages around his head had been removed yesterday and he'd been allowed out of bed for the first time since he'd woken up from his coma. He grimaced as he remembered seeing his reflection in the mirror for the first time, the bruises on his face had turned into a mixture of fading greens and yellows. He was glad to see that they hadn't shaved all of his hair off, only a patch at the back of his skull where they'd operated on him. He was shocked to find how old he looked, he'd asked the nurse who tended to him after breakfast what year it was and was taken aback when he heard her response. Gone was the youthful looking face he remembered, it had been replaced with a worn and weathered visage that he barely recognised. The lines around his eyes and mouth told him that the last 18 years of his life had been far from easy and had taken its toll on his appearance, the only thing that softened the blow of his own mortality creeping up on him was the fact that his hair was still the same fiery red as that of his thirties, age had not touched that at least.

He tensed as the door opened but relaxed as he saw the beautiful blonde woman re-enter the room, Calleigh had been a constant in his life since he'd woken up. He had no idea how he'd met her or what their history was but he knew deep inside that he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Her sweet lilting voice and the intoxicating smell of her perfume affected him more than he cared to admit, he resigned himself to the fact that she could never feel the same way about him. Looking at his worn appearance in the mirror yesterday had only served to reinforce his belief that he would never be good enough for her as he hung his head in disappointment.

She watched him as he sat on the bed, his head held low. "Come on, let's go," she said as she walked over to him and held her hand out.

He looked at her for a few moments before accepting her offer of assistance and pulling himself from the bed. He groaned as he swayed slightly on his feet, not prepared for the wave of dizziness that hit him as he stood. He kept his head down as he waited for the woozy feeling to dissipate, "I'm fine," he told her as she gave him a worried look, "Just got up a bit too quickly."

She said nothing as she placed an arm around his waist and helped him from the room, ignoring his feeble protests that he was fine and could manage on his own. He felt a wave of shame wash over him as he saw Andy and Eric standing in the waiting room looking at him with pitying eyes. It was bad enough that the woman of his fantasies was helping him to walk without having an audience to watch it too. They walked in silence through the corridors of the hospital until they reached the large grey Hummer parked at the entrance, standing guard by the vehicle were several uniformed officers and their patrol vehicles. "Is all this really necessary?" he asked as Calleigh shooed him towards the Hummer.

"Yes it is. We're keeping you under constant guard until we've caught those lowlifes."

"I'm not worth all of this fuss," he whispered quietly.

She stopped in her tracks and stood in front of him, "Don't ever say that. We'll deal with the Malucci's together; you're not alone this time."

He looked at her and could not deny the sincerity in her words but he knew that he could never put her in harm's way just to protect himself. He'd gotten into this mess and it was his duty to get himself out of it again, even if that meant doing it on his own.

She glanced in the rear view mirror repeatedly as she drove back to her house and with one patrol car in front of her and another bringing up the rear she was moderately satisfied that the Malucci's would not try to ambush them on the short trip home. She watched as he sat quietly in the back of the Hummer, his head turned towards the window to his right as he looked out at the view of the city of Miami. She jumped when she heard his voice, "None of this looks familiar," he told her quietly as he sat with his hands in his lap.

She didn't know what to say to that, they had worked together for over a decade and no one knew Miami better than Horatio. Although he wasn't a native over the years it had become his city, it was what kept him going, keeping the streets of this great city safe. It pained her to think that he would never remember all of the good times they had shared together, their flirty banter and that boyish grin he would give her as they spoke.

"What happens if I never remember my past?"

She wasn't sure if he was talking to himself or asking her opinion but she felt she had to answer. "Then we'll make new memories, maybe it's best that you don't remember what happened to you back then."

He let his head drop, "I wish I could remember."

In all of the years that she had known him she'd never heard him sound so dejected, it took all of her self-control not to pull the Hummer over and hug some sense into him. She willed herself not to cry as she returned her attention to the road.

"We're here," she said as she pulled up at her beachfront home and put the vehicle in to park. "Wait here for a moment, I'm just going to check it's all clear."

She returned a few minutes later, opened his door and held her hand out to help him from the Hummer. He opened his mouth to protest but closed it when she raised an eyebrow at him. She held on to him as he swayed slightly on his feet and kept a steadying arm on him as they made their way to the front door and into the house.

He stood in the hallway and took in his surroundings, disappointed to find that none of it looked familiar to him. "Do I live here?" he asked as she led him by the arm into the lounge.

She shook her head, "No, this is my place. You've been here plenty of times though, are you sure nothing looks familiar?"

His gaze swept the room but he felt nothing, no memories trying to force their way to the surface of his conscious mind. "No, I'm sorry." He sat heavily on the couch and clasped his hands together between his knees.

She stood in the doorway watching him as his shoulders slumped, "Listen, I need to pop out for a little while. I shouldn't be too long; Frank's going to stay here until I get back."

"Ok," he replied quietly. He had no idea who Frank was but it was obvious that he was meant to know him. It wasn't until he heard the gruff Texan voice that his head shot up, his eyes widened as he saw the tall and imposing detective standing next to Calleigh. He felt a physical pain shoot through his head as hundreds of images and sounds assaulted him all at once.


	47. Chapter 47

**Does Horatio remember Frank and if so, what was their first meeting like? Read on to find out...**

**Flashback. Miami 1996:**

Standing on the sidewalk outside the Miami Dade Police Department John Kelly had no idea what to do. He'd been dumped in a strange city and expected to start his life all over again, he grasped the padded envelope tighter in his hand as he rued the day he'd ever met Agent Collins. The uniformed officers coming and going from the building were starting to give him strange looks as he stood at the bottom of the steps. He looked down at himself and smiled slightly, the wrinkled clothes and nearly a week's worth of stubble probably gave the impression that he was some sort of junky and not a police detective. Taking a deep breath he made his way to the entrance of the building and stepped inside.

The first thing that hit him was the sheer amount of glass panelling, Florida was the Sunshine State of course but the strength and ferocity of the sun had taken him by surprise. The building was so well illuminated by the sun's rays filtering through the multitude of glass windows that there was no need for artificial light during the day. He was also relieved to find that it was much cooler inside than it was on the steps outside. It seemed as if the MDPD had the good grace to fork out on a decent air conditioning system to combat the possible greenhouse-like effects of the building's structure. After spending a few minutes acquainting himself with his new surroundings he walked over to the reception desk. "Good morning, could you tell me where I could find Detective Trip please?" He gave the receptionist what he hoped was a sincere smile as he tried to be as charming as possible.

She looked at him warily as her eyes travelled up and down his body, obviously unimpressed by his current state of dress. "Who may I ask is calling, sir?"

"I've just arrived from New York, I've been transferred to the Miami Dade Police Department," he responded as he tried to remember all the nuances of his new identity. "As a detective," he added as he saw her puzzled expression.

Her eyes bored into him and he found himself becoming uncomfortable at being the focus of her attention. Eventually she picked up a clipboard and placed it on the counter, "Sign the visitors log please."

He took the pen she offered only just stopping before he wrote the wrong name on the document; he shook his head and berated himself for almost slipping up at the first hurdle. He took his time writing his new name, he had always been known as John or Johnny and now to be called something completely different took a bit of getting used to. _"What kind of name is Horatio anyway?" _he thought to himself as he handed the clipboard back to the receptionist, "_Another one of Collins' funny jokes I guess."_

"Thank you, Mr Caine," the receptionist said as she read the sheet, "I'll just put a call in for Detective Trip, he'll be with you shortly. Please take a seat."

Looking in the direction she had pointed he saw a few cushioned chairs in the waiting area across the room. He ambled over to them, sat down and picked up a magazine and flicked through it. He heard a gruff Texan voice call out, "Horatio Caine?" Not being used to his new name he completely ignored the imposing detective as the man walked closer to him and cleared his throat loudly. "Horatio Caine?"

It dawned on him suddenly that he was being spoken to; he put the magazine down quickly and looked up at the man in front of him. Detective Frank Trip stood at least 6'3", over 200 pounds and currently looked pretty irritated. He stood up but his balding counterpart still had a good couple of inches on him. "Sorry, I was miles away. You must be Frank," he held out his hand to the other man.

Frank nailed him with a glare as the Texan tried to visually assess the man in front of him. "Yeah, I am," he answered none too friendly. "I take it you haven't come here to make small talk, what can I do for you?"

"I've been transferred here from the NYPD; I'm supposed to be your new partner."

Frank stood with his hands on his hips, "You often come to work dressed like this? What are you, some kind of narcotics tweaker who's come down here to detox for a while?"

He was tired, stressed and the other man's accusations had stung. "No, I've just driven down here from Manhattan. I've literally just got here, I haven't had a chance to change yet," he responded firmly.

"So you haven't been issued your service weapon or shield yet?"

"What do you think?" he shot back tersely, wanting nothing more than to lie down and sleep to find that when he woke this had all been some horrible nightmare.

The two men stood with their hands on their hips sizing each other up, neither willing to give any ground to the other. Realising that their standoff couldn't last forever Frank finally relented and broke eye contact. "Follow me and I'll show you where you need to go." The big man didn't wait for a reply as he turned around and stalked down the corridor.

* * *

**Miami. Present Day:**

"Horatio, are you ok?"

"Horatio, talk to me." He felt the physical contact as Calleigh shook him lightly by the shoulders.

He came back to awareness slowly and the first thing that registered in his brain was that his beautiful blonde angel was once more by his side. "Calleigh, what happened?" he asked, still in a state of confusion.

She let go of his shoulders as she sat down beside him, "You cried out in pain, your eyes were open but you weren't responding to anything we said. Do you feel ok, maybe taking you out of the hospital was a mistake," she added as an afterthought.

He ran a hand over his mouth, "No, I just had some memories come back." He looked up at Frank who was still standing in the doorway looking uncomfortable to be witnessing such a scene. "You're Frank Tripp, aren't you?" The big Texan nodded in response, "I remember meeting you when I first came here."

Frank squirmed a little as his cheeks reddened, "That's was hardly one of our best moments for either of us. I was hoping you wouldn't remember it."

Horatio gave him a bemused look, "I just have a memory of meeting you on my first day, and you didn't exactly look pleased to see me. I'm surprised you're here now, I got the impression that you didn't like me very much."

"Hell Horatio, that was years ago," Frank huffed as he made his way into the room and sat in the space that Calleigh had just vacated. "A lot of stuff has happened since then; believe it or not we're pretty tight these days."

Calleigh left the room quietly and made her way back to the Hummer, happy in the knowledge that Frank would keep Horatio safe whilst she returned to the lab to complete some unfinished business.

**A/N: I won't be able to post tomorrow due to work commitments but the next chapter should be up on Saturday.**


	48. Chapter 48

**Here is a longer than usual chapter seeing as I didn't post yesterday:**

Calleigh nodded and smiled at the uniformed officers sitting in their car in her driveway, she hated to leave Horatio whilst he was so vulnerable but felt a little more at ease when she saw how heavily her house was currently being guarded. Climbing into her Hummer she pulled out of the drive and on to the road. At first she wasn't sure but after a few minutes Calleigh had convinced herself that she was being followed, she took a couple of hasty turns in an effort to shake her tail off but the blue SUV stuck to her like glue. Glancing in the rear view mirror she could see that the other vehicle was keeping a discreet distance and had yet to make an aggressive move towards her. Finally, she pulled into the parking lot of the MDPD crime lab and gave a sigh of relief as she saw that she was no longer being followed.

Calleigh leant over and took out the semi-automatic pistol she always kept in her glove box and checked the ammunition before leaving the Hummer. With the gun resting in her hand by her side she quickly scanned the area for any nearby threats but found none before making her way into the building.

She had asked the rest of the team to meet her in the break room; she stood by the coffee machine waiting for the hot beverage to percolate. Her head shot up as she heard the door open and then smiled in relief as she saw Eric stand in the doorway. "How'd H settle in?" he asked as he made his way over to the couch, his earlier bitter tone towards her replaced by one of warmth and concern.

Calleigh picked up the coffee pot and poured liquid into two mugs before handing one to Eric, the task helping to distract her from thinking about the SUV that followed her to the lab. "He's doing ok, he had a bit of a funny turn when he saw Frank," she glanced in Eric's direction and saw his eyebrow rise in surprise before she continued. "He remembers meeting Frank when he first came to Miami."

Eric gave her a reassuring smile, "At least he's remembered something about his life here, and it's a start I suppose." Calleigh tried to mirror his smile but was unable to convince her young Cuban colleague. "What is it, Calleigh?"

She ran her finger around the edge of the cup, "So many things have happened to Horatio since he's been here and not all of them have been good. I guess after I heard about his time in New York that it might be better that he doesn't remember what's happened here."

After a few moments Eric spoke softly, "You mean Speed and Marisol."

Calleigh nodded her head sadly, "Their deaths hit him so hard, Eric. I'm not sure I could bear to watch him go through all that pain again."

The conversation ended as Ryan and Walter entered the room closely followed by Natalia, the three of them looking expectantly at Calleigh. "We got your text, Cal. What's up?"

Calleigh placed her coffee cup down on the table and motioned for her colleagues to sit, "Eric and I need to talk to you about Horatio," she began.

Natalia's hand flew to her mouth, "Oh God, he's not…..you know…"

"No, nothing like that. He left the hospital this morning and is staying at my house for the time being."

"Can't say I blame him after what happened to his place," Walter muttered as he shook his head.

"He's doing ok though, isn't he?" Ryan asked nervously.

"He's as well as can be expected, there's still a hell of a lot that he doesn't remember. We have a bigger problem than that though." Three sets of eager eyes looked at her expectantly; with a deep sigh she began to repeat the shocking details of their leader's past.

After she had finished Walter was the first to speak, "Wow, I always knew H was badass but that is one hell of a life story. He never spoke to you guys about it?" The tall, heavy set black man looked at Eric and Calleigh as he spoke.

"Nope, we had no idea until he woke up in the hospital claiming to be someone else," Eric replied.

Natalia regained her composure, "We'll do whatever you need us to, and we'll track down these bastards and put them away for good."

Calleigh smiled at the conviction in her colleague's voice, "Eric and I knew we could count on you. We need you to keep this just between us; the only other person who knows is Frank. Keep your eyes open and be on the lookout for anything suspicious. We have reason to believe that they have been following all of us, if something doesn't feel right call for backup straight away. Try to stay in pairs as much as possible."

"We won't stop until the Malucci's are behind bars where they belong."

"Thanks, Ryan. Right now I need the three of you to concentrate on trying to track down where Gianni and Danny are hiding. Ring Eric or myself day or night."

Calleigh thanked her colleagues as they filed out of the room and then returned her attention to Eric. "I think I was being tailed on my way over here."

"What? Are you sure?"

"Pretty much, I kept taking diversions and the same SUV followed me all the way here." Calleigh gave Eric the license plate and a description of the vehicle, "I'm just going into Horatio's office to get a few things for him and then I'm heading back home. Are you ok to keep an eye on things here?"

Eric nodded, "Sure thing, tell H that I'm thinking about him."

Calleigh slipped silently into Horatio's office and shut the door quietly behind her; she took in a deep breath and swore that she could smell the lieutenant's cologne. It was as if his presence had soaked into every corner of the room, being in here made her feel as if she were as close to him as if he were standing right next to her. She made her way round to his desk and took out the photographs that she had found the other day; she placed them in her purse and glanced at the picture on the desk of Horatio and Kyle. She debated whether to take it or not fearing that too much information too soon would push Horatio too far. _"He deserves to know," _she said to herself as she picked the framed photo up and left the room.

* * *

An awkward silence filled the room, "I take it I didn't give a great first impression?"

Frank almost jumped at the redhead's quiet voice, "My old partner had been transferred out of state a few months before and I was being saddled with wet behind the ears rookies. You turned up looking like you'd been on a weeklong bender so it didn't exactly fill me with joy to hear that you were my new partner." He had the good grace to look slightly guilty for his admission.

"I don't really remember how I ended up in Miami; Calleigh told me that Collins had dropped left me there. I just remember feeling exhausted and completely out of place. I can't say I blame you for not thinking much of me."

"Huh," Frank laughed humourlessly, "The next day you showed up looking like a million bucks. I was convinced then that you were dirty." Horatio's eyes widened as he looked at Frank in shock, "Sorry, Horatio. I didn't mean that the way it came out." _"Nice one, Trip. Way to make the poor guy feel even worse!"_

The redhead didn't speak for a while, "Would you tell me about it? I don't remember anything of my time here," he finished sadly.

* * *

**Flashback. Miami 1996:**

Standing in the full-length mirror he took a good look at his reflection, the man that stood before him was the complete opposite of the man who had arrived in Miami yesterday morning. After a tough first day with his new partner he was glad to make it home, Collins had at least supplied him with a dark blue Audi sedan in the MDPD parking lot. No expense had been spared with the beach-front house he'd been given either, the house was too big for one person but he couldn't deny that the surroundings were breath-taking.

He spent hours looking around the building, convinced that Collins and his FBI buddies had bugged the place. It surprised him that the kitchen was fully stocked with groceries and produce, walking to the lounge he found the liquor cabinet full too, he cursed under his breath at Collins before taking the bottles and emptying them one by one down the sink. The smell of scotch assaulted his nostrils as he poured the brown liquid away; alcohol was a reminder of his past life. He was fully aware that he had become too reliant on it to take away his problems and swore never to touch it again, determined to give up on his unhealthy coping mechanisms and start his life over.

The master bedroom was decadent, a king size bed with black silk sheets sat in the middle of the huge room and a glance inside the en-suite bathroom showed that the interior in there was just as lavish. It suddenly occurred to him that he had no clothes other than the ones he was currently standing in; it would be just like Collins to deliberately leave something out. Walking over to the walk-in wardrobe he was surprised to see a row of expensive Italian tailored suits and shirts along with designer belts and shoes. He sat back on the bed and laughed to himself at how his life had once more been turned upside-down.

* * *

After getting up early, showering and shaving he walked back into the bedroom and began to get dressed. He had to admit that the suit looked good on him, tapered and cut in all the right places. With the stubble gone and his hair neatly combed back he looked much more presentable than he had the day before. Making his way to the kitchen he made a light breakfast and downed a cup of coffee before making his way to the police department.

On the drive to the station he took time to think about his new partner, things had certainly not started well between the pair of them. Frank Tripp seemed to hate him as soon as he clapped eyes on him and he couldn't say he was that keen on the big Texan either. The smart mouth and brash attitude reminded him too much of Andy, his thoughts darkening immediately as soon as he thought of his past life, trying to convince himself that his new partner was something that he had lost forever was pointless. Andy had always been a father figure and a mentor to him but his new partner could barely give him the time of day and the rejection stung, not that he would let Tripp know that, he refused to give the other man any more ammunition than he already had.

He looked at Frank as he walked in, his smile faltered as the big Texan scowled at him. "You've sure scrubbed up well this morning. Did they pay you too much in New York?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Designer suits aren't exactly affordable on a detective's salary. You come into some money lately?"

"What are you implying?" he growled, trying to keep his voice even.

Frank stood and towered over his counterpart, "Nothing. Just want to make sure my partner's going to watch my back."

His eyes narrowed as he glared at Frank, "Me too."

The trip to the crime scene had been made in virtual silence, neither man willing to give ground and speak first. The pair of them childishly tried to outwit the other when interviewing the witnesses, searching each other for potential weaknesses. The redhead's standoffish demeanour was starting to rile Frank, the way he stood there with his hands on his hips, badge and gun on full display, standing to one side and glancing into the distance as he spoke. It incensed Frank further to find that Horatio was a skilled detective and not some naïve rookie as he'd been expecting. Each time Frank had opened his mouth to ask a question he would find his partner butting in and getting there first.

Stalking back to the car Frank waited for his colleague to join him, "I don't like you," he said as he put his seatbelt on roughly.

Horatio turned to look at him, "And that's meant to be news to me? You hated me from the moment you saw me."

"I don't trust you. You turn up out of the blue looking like some kind of hobo and then the next day you turn up looking like you fell off a catwalk. I just don't get it."

He couldn't reveal the secret he had worked so hard to bury. "It's long and it's complicated Frank, you wouldn't understand."

"Are you dirty, is that what it is?"

The speed at which the redhead had launched himself and grabbed onto his suit jacket took him by surprise, "You have no idea what you're talking about," his tone was low and menacing, "Stay out of my business." His grip slowly loosened on Frank's clothes.

"I can't work with someone I don't trust, I'm asking for a transfer."

"Do whatever the hell you want, Tripp. I don't care." The redhead folded his arms over his chest and stared out at the road.

* * *

**Miami. Present day:**

"What happened, did you get your transfer?"

Frank let out a humourless laugh, "Nah, damn Captain told me to suck it up and get on with it, the asshole."

"So are we still partners now?" Horatio enquired quietly.

Frank hesitated slightly before answering, "Not strictly speaking, no. We were partnered up for about eight months before you got transferred to the bomb squad."

It took Horatio a while to process the information, "Why on earth would I join the bomb squad, did I have some kind of death wish or something?"

The big Texan did crack a smile at that, _"If only you knew, man."_

"From what I recall you were none too happy about your transfer either, you said it was 'out of your hands'. I have to admit that I was sorry to see you go."

"Really? At first you thought I was a drug addict and then you thought I was on the take, what did I do to make you change your mind?"


	49. Chapter 49

**Thanks again for all of the wonderful reviews, they mean so much to me.**

**Flashback. Miami 1997:**

Frank Tripp sat heavily behind his desk as he tried to take in the news Horatio had just given him, "I don't get it, why are you being transferred?"

The redhead shrugged his shoulders as he sat opposite his partner, "Your guess is as good as mine, I got the call this morning."

"So when are you leaving?"

He sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face, "At the end of the week, I'm to report to Al Humphries next Monday." Looking down at his hands he finished quietly, "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing you can do to stop it?"

Horatio shook his head sadly as he fiddled mindlessly with a report on his desk.

Frank cleared his throat, "I'm….uh…God, I don't know how to say this."

His partner's head shot up, "How to say what, Frank?"

The balding detective hesitated until the other man motioned for him to continue, "I'm gonna miss you."

He couldn't help but smile, the first few weeks of their relationship had been more than a little rocky. The two of them were constantly sniping at each other and there was a distinct lack of trust mainly on Frank's part. Horatio would have given anything to tell his new partner how he had really come to be in Miami but he knew that to do so would put more than just himself in danger. He couldn't blame Frank for his wariness, his attempts to inhabit his new identity had been average for the most part, stumbling over the questions he was being asked as he tried to remember all the facets of his new persona. As time went by he became more comfortable in the guise of Horatio Caine until he hardly remembered his life as John Kelly. He'd found himself adopting a different way of carrying himself and even the way he talked, he wasn't sure it was an entirely conscious decision or something borne of necessity to keep his real identity and past a secret. To some people his penchant for standing side-on and not making eye contact could be misconstrued as him being standoffish or arrogant when the truth behind it was that he didn't want people looking into his eyes, it was the one thing that he knew would gave him away.

Four weeks into his partnership with Frank Tripp and they were barely speaking to each other and only then in a professional capacity, it was then that they got a call-out that would change the dynamic of their relationship forever. They had been called to a shoot-out between two rival gangs which had left three men dead, deciding to split up seemed like a better idea than interviewing the witnesses together, the distance between them helping to ease the palpable tension in the air. Horatio finished talking to a young Hispanic woman and after giving her his card and a soft smile he made his way back over to his partner. The roar of an engine could be heard in the distance and he didn't think much of it until the black Pontiac came hurtling down the street towards the crime scene. He began running towards Frank trying to warn him of the impending danger when a glint of sunlight shone off of something metal, he saw the gun before he heard the shot go off and launched himself at his much taller and heavier partner.

The pair of them fell to the ground with a grunt and landed unceremoniously on the sidewalk, "You ok?" Horatio asked as he rolled off of Frank and onto his back, breathing heavily.

His partner pulled himself up into a sitting position as he dusted his suit off, "What the hell just happened?"

"Looks like one of the gangs came back to finish the job, are you hit?"

Frank checked himself over for injuries but found none apart from his pride, that and having the air knocked out of him. "I'm fine, which is more than I can say for you."

The redhead gave him a puzzled look and followed Frank's gaze to his left arm, the blood seeping through his grey suit began to spread and he could feel it trickling down his arm. His body didn't register the pain until he saw the injury for himself. Raising his right hand he attempted to staunch the flow of blood but found the warm liquid running slowly through his fingers.

Frank stood up and held his hands out to help Horatio up, after a couple of attempts and a lot of wobbling the redhead had finally made it to an upright position and tried to wave his partner's concern off. "It's probably just a scratch." Even he didn't believe that especially when his vision started to blur a little around the edges, the blood loss and shock finally starting to set in.

* * *

Horatio was surprised to find Frank waiting outside the ER for him a few hours later; the bullet had passed straight through muscle in his upper arm and had been stitched and cleaned before being bandaged. The doctor had advised him to rest the injured apendage as much as possible and confined him to desk duty for at least a fortnight. He trundled from the cubicle with his tail between his legs and his arm in a sling, it was only when he heard the gruff Texan voice that he realised he wasn't alone. "Come to see if I'm dead?" he asked testily as the painkillers they had given him in the hospital began to wear off.

The other man shoved his hands in his pockets and huffed, "I stayed to make sure you were alright, you needed someone to drive you home."

"Want to come and see where I'm hiding all my drugs and money?"

"Fine, have it your way."

He knew he'd been an idiot, Frank was trying to make peace and all he had done was throw it back in his face. "I'm sorry; it's been a long day. A lift home would be great."

As they drove Frank turned his head to look at him, "You saved my life today."

He tried to shrug his shoulders but sucked in a deep breath of air as his left arm complained of the movement. "I'm sure you would have done the same for me."

"To be honest I wasn't sure if you would have had my back. Guess I've been pretty hard on you since we met."

He was in no mood for mind games and so he answered honestly, "Yes, you have."

"I was wrong. You tell anyone I said that and I'll deny it 'til I'm blue in the face."

It wasn't what he was expecting to hear, "Your secret is safe with me, don't worry."

"Look, Horatio, could we maybe start again?"

It was the first time he'd called him by just his first name since they'd met, "Sure, I'd like that."

* * *

**Miami. Present day: **

"Over the years we both came and went yet somehow we always managed to cross paths regularly. We've been in more scrapes than you could shake a stick at and since that day in '97 I knew you'd always have my back." Frank's words were sincere as he tried to make the confused man in front of him understand how much he was loved and respected.

Horatio pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, "I don't remember any of it."

Frank was spared from trying to offer words of reassurance by the front door opening and closing, he got up quickly from the couch and reached for his gun, he relaxed his stance when he saw the ballistics expert for the Miami Dade Crime Lab enter the room. He made his goodbyes and left quickly, glad to avoid upsetting his close friend more than he already had.

Calleigh sat beside Horatio and placed a hand on his knee, "I went to pick some things up at the lab for you." Taking the photos out of her purse she handed them to him, "I thought you might like to look at these, they might help to jog your memory."

He felt a stab of pain run through his chest as he gazed at the picture of him and Lori, it was one of his favourite pictures of her, he loved the way her hair fell seductively around her beautiful face and that look of pure passion in her eyes as they posed for the camera. He felt even worse when he saw the photo of him and Andy standing outside their precinct in Manhattan, hands on hips with guns and shields on full display, his heart ached for those precious days that now seemed so far behind.

His hand shook as he looked at each picture in turn; the last few of them were full of people he didn't recognise. He guessed that they were taken at the lab as Eric and Calleigh were in the pictures too, it didn't pass his notice that a young, dark-haired sullen man was only in one of the group photos. His voice was barely a whisper as he spoke, "He's dead, isn't he?"


	50. Chapter 50

**Wow, I can't believe that I've made it to chapter 50 already!**

"How did you know?" Calleigh asked him, shocked by his statement.

Spacing the photos out on the table he explained, "This is in the only picture he's in," he pointed to a photo of a group of five people. "It's hard to explain but I just got a feeling of such sadness when I saw his face, how did he die?"

She could feel her heart thumping in her chest, caught in two minds as to whether she should tell him or keep him in the dark about the violent end to Tim Speedle's life. He was already carrying around so much guilt that she hated to burden him with more, she knew if she told him that he would blame himself even though there was nothing he could have done to prevent it.

His quiet voice made her jump slightly as he spoke, "I was there, wasn't I?"

Memories from that fateful day came rushing back at her, Horatio's expression of pure despair as he told his colleagues about the shooting in the jewellery store and how Speed had died in his arms. Throughout it all he had remained strong for the whole team, keeping his own grief to himself as he supported his colleagues. She would never forget the way he had wrapped her in his arms whilst she cried and grieved for her fallen friend.

She wiped away the tears brimming in her eyes, "You and Tim were at a crime scene at a jewellery store, uniforms were meant to have searched the place before you began processing it. A perp came out of nowhere and started shooting at both of you, Tim's gun jammed and before he could reload he'd been shot. There was nothing you could have done differently; it was just one of those things."

He let his head hang, "Why did the gun jam?"

"Tim was never a fan of firearms and he hated cleaning his service weapon, this time he got caught out and it cost him his life." She was prepared for the words that were about to come out of his mouth before he'd had a chance to speak them, "It wasn't your fault, Tim was responsible for taking care of his own gun, there was no way you could have known that he hadn't."

Trying to change the subject Calleigh pointed at one of the older pictures, "Who is that?"

He followed her finger with his eyes and allowed himself a small smile; it was the picture of him and Lori. "She was my wife; we were happy together for a time."

Calleigh felt a small pang of jealousy go through her at the thought of another woman having a place in the redhead's heart. "What happened between you?"

"We were madly in love, the day I met her I knew I would marry her. Things were great for a while but then Lori started to resent my job, first she didn't like the hours I was working and then she didn't like me being out on the streets all day. I tried to make her see that I loved my job and that all I wanted to do was keep people safe, she couldn't see why I was doing it. We started to argue about the job, she told me that I was stifling her and being too protective but I'd seen first hand what kinds of monsters were out on the streets in New York." He took a breath to collect his thoughts, "In the end she told me that it was either her or the job, I guess I loved the job more," he finished sadly.

"But you loved her; I can see it in the way you looked at her in that picture."

"I still loved her even after we got divorced; she was such a big part of my life. I still miss her now."

She had to remind herself that in Horatio's mind he was still John Kelly from New York and not the man that she had grown to care for so deeply. It still didn't change the fact that his words stung, the pair of them had been dancing around the idea of progressing their relationship into something more than just work colleagues but Horatio's memory had been ripped away from him before they'd the chance to explore their feelings for each other.

His gaze focused on another picture, he picked it up with a shaky hand and closed his eyes as he brought it closer to him. "This is Robin," he whispered, "I'd had a few relationships after Lori but Robin was the first woman I'd had strong feelings for since the divorce. I'd known her for years and after her husband died we grew closer, we were only together for a few months before everything happened." She knew what he meant, the undercover operation that turned his world on its head. "God, she must hate me for what I put her through."

Calleigh placed a hand on his knee again and gave it a reassuring squeeze, "I'm sure if she found out the truth that she'd understand."

The pained look he gave her almost broke her heart. "I made such a mess of things; I pushed them all away and made them hate me. I've got no right to expect them to welcome me back in their lives, maybe it's better they think I'm dead."

"I know Andy doesn't say it but he's so glad that you're still alive, I think he's just angry that you didn't trust him enough to let him know what was going on."

"I couldn't, I couldn't trust anyone. I had to be on my own to keep them all safe." His voice trailed off as he spoke, "I'm so sorry."

She pulled him closer as she heard his breath hitch and held him as he sobbed quietly for the life that he had lost so many years ago. It unnerved her that Horatio was in such a vulnerable state but the doctor had warned them that head injuries could make people unpredictable at times. She had always seen Horatio as a man that kept his feelings to himself and to see him so distraught pained her deeply. She held him as the tears slowly dried up but refused to let go of him, she would never let him be alone again.

Slowly the feelings of sorrow and despair were replaced with a feeling of absolute peace and contentment as he lay in Calleigh's arms. It felt so good, so right to be close to her as he convinced himself that they were more than just friends and work colleagues. Pulling himself out of her embrace he leaned over and kissed her. He realised it was a huge mistake when she pulled away from him quickly, shooting off of the couch he staggered slightly as another wave of dizziness hit him. Shrugging off her offer of help he made his way upstairs on shaky legs and locked himself in the bathroom.

* * *

Eric rolled his neck and shoulders as stiffness began to set in, he'd been staring at the computer for the last three hours trying to find any trace of the Malucci's presence in Miami in the hopes of narrowing down their search for them. So far he had come up empty, the pitiful amount of information that Agent Collins had handed to Calleigh was little to go on. Most of the information was regarding their operations in New York and they were without one single lead as to the whereabouts of Gianni or Danny. _"They might not even be here, maybe they sent their hired help to try and finish H off." _He shook his head and disregarded that idea, the vendetta against his brother-in-law was personal and he knew they would come to finish the job themselves.

He couldn't fault the rest of the team's effort in trying to come up with new leads but it was time to face facts, the Malucci's knew how to cover their tracks and had been careful not to leave much in the way of clues. The box of photos that had been sent to the lab while creepy yielded nothing in the way of fingerprints or DNA; even if it had they currently had nothing to compare it to. Eric had asked Dave to give up on trying to trace the original source of the emails and texts as Collins had as good as already admitted that he'd sent them. There was nothing much any of them could do but sit back and hope that the organisation after Horatio would slip up and leave them at least something to go on. _"Follow the evidence,"_ he heard Horatio say in his mind as he started another search of the computer's database. Moments later a deafening boom resounded through the air as the Miami Dade Crime Lab shook in its foundations.


	51. Chapter 51

** A/N: Sorry for the double cliffhanger of the last chapter, thanks to all those people who called me 'evil' for doing so, I know you meant it in a nice way, didn't you? :)**

"Hor….John, please open the door." Silence greeted her and so she knocked softly again, "I'm sorry for the way I reacted, you just took me by surprise that was all." She sighed softly as she leant back against the bathroom door and lowered herself to the floor.

On the other side of the door Horatio sat on the floor with his knees bent and his elbows resting on top of them, he closed his eyes as he wrung his hands together and berated himself. _"You idiot. You stupid idiot." _He let his head fall back against the wood and hissed as he felt the pain from the incision on the back of his head. He welcomed the pain, it gave him the ability to focus his turbulent thoughts, things had moved much too fast and the sheer amount of information his brain was trying to process was starting to become more than he could handle. He felt so sure of his feelings towards Calleigh even though he hardly knew her, he was certain that she looked the same way at him as he did at her. _"You're being a coward, running and hiding. Then again, you're good at that." _He couldn't argue with his rationale, he had locked himself in the bathroom like a child in a temper tantrum.

"How did we meet?"

Although his voice came through as nothing more than a whisper from behind the door she would have had to been deaf not to hear the sadness in his deep, smoky voice. _"At least he's talking to me," _she thought.

"You were head of the crime lab here in Miami," she began as she smiled wistfully at the memory of their first meeting.

* * *

**Flashback. New Orleans 1999:**

Horatio Caine wearily stretched his neck as he stepped off the plane at New Orleans International Airport, it had only been a short flight but the complexity of the case that had brought him here had taken much more out of him than he realised. Truth be told he was glad to be out of Miami, his team of crime scene investigators were trying to track the whereabouts of a vicious serial killer that had been terrorizing the city. The Miami Dade Police Department's press liaison had been unable to stop the media from building the case of the 'South Beach Slaughters' into a fervent frenzy. The throng of camera crews and reporters that had camped out on the steps of the crime lab had made going about his job almost impossible with microphones being shoved in his face at every available turn.

As the body count rose Horatio began to feel the heat from his superiors, having recently been promoted to lieutenant he found the added paperwork and press conference requirements an unnecessary burden on his time on the job. He had the captain breathing down his neck and demanding answers that he currently couldn't give the man. "_Maybe if I spent less time taking pointless press conferences we'd actually get somewhere."_

If he was being honest he was glad to get away from the whole circus for a time, evidence at the last crime scene had led him to New Orleans. As Horatio walked through arrivals he saw a thin, young black man holding a card with his name on it, he groaned slightly in embarrassment before making his way over to the earnest young officer. "You didn't need to send a welcoming party; I could have got a cab."

"No sir," the uniformed officer replied, "I have strict instructions to take care of you best I can 'til I get you to Captain Squires. Welcome to New Orleans, sir." The young man doffed his hat.

"A pleasure. Your name, officer?"

"Daniels, third generation of my family to work in law enforcement." He smiled proudly at the redhead as he spoke of his heritage on the way to the car. "How 'bout you, sir?" he asked as they climbed into the patrol car and set off, "You sure don't sound like a Miami native, you aint got the colouring neither."

He couldn't fault the young man's directness even if it did make him feel slightly uncomfortable. "I'm from New York originally." He left it as vague as he could.

"Man, I love the Big Apple." Daniels gave Horatio a toothy smile, "I always wanted to take my mama there, why did you leave such a great city?"

"I needed a change; Miami seemed like a good place to go." Half-truth, half lie. _"This kid will make a fine detective one day." _

"You ever think about going back there, sir?"

_"All the God damn time, even though there's nothing left there for me now."_

It was only when Officer Daniels asked him if he was ok that he realised that he must have got side tracked in his own thoughts. "We're here now sir, just walk through the main entrance and you'll see the signs for the lab. Have a good day, sir."

He nodded his thanks as he got out of the car and made his way into the building. The design and layout of the crime lab was completely different to that of the one he was used to back in Miami. There were no giant sheets of glass and in their place were cold and asinine-looking concrete walls which wouldn't have looked out of place in a mausoleum. Where Miami was bright and colourful this particular building in New Orleans seemed dark and plain.

Spending too much time taking in his gloomy surroundings he failed to notice the beautiful blonde woman walking towards him equally preoccupied with the stack of folders balanced precariously in her arms. The two of them walked into each other with a collective 'oomph' as the folders fell from her arms and scattered on the floor. She placed and embarrassed hand over her mouth as she looked at him, "Oh Lordy, I didn't see you there. I'm so sorry."

Her lilting southern tone sent his heart fluttering, she sounded as good as she looked. Those beautiful green eyes and the long flowing blonde hair that framed her face would not have been out of place on a catwalk. He found himself captivated by her natural beauty as his gaze focused on taking in every part of her face as they stood in the corridor. He hadn't realised he was staring at her until she cleared her throat awkwardly and started to reach for the files on the floor.

"Here, let me help you." He felt the jolt of electricity race through him as their fingers accidentally brushed against each other. They silently collected the folders and rose together, neither taking their eye off the other.

"You're not from round here are you?"

Her soft voice brought him back to reality, "No, I'm visiting from Miami. Captain Squires thinks he may have a lead on a case we're handling."

She gave him a conspiratorial smile, "You're Horatio Caine then? I've heard a lot about you."

"You have? All good I hope," he asked a little nervously. He chided himself for letting his hormones rule his head, _"Act professionally, you idiot."_

"Yep," she said as she beamed another smile at him. Readjusting her load she held out a hand to him and shook it, "I'm Calleigh Duquesne, ballistics expert. You need any help with firearms you be sure to drop by my lab, ok?"

He nodded and gave her a shy smile, keeping his head low as he glanced up at her. "I'll be sure to remember that, Miss Duquesne."

* * *

**Present day. Miami:**

Eric coughed as he made his way to the front of the building, the acrid smoke and dust aggravating his already abused lungs as he ran towards the source of the noise that had boomed through the crime lab. Waving away the thick clouds of dust-filled air he made out the images of Ryan and Walter running to the aid of a couple of injured officers who had been thrown back towards the steps in the blast. It was a bomb, of that there was no doubt. Taking a look at the burnt-out shell of the SUV and the utter devastation the explosion had caused all added up to one thing, a deliberate attack on the Miami Dade Police Department.

The scene outside the building became slightly chaotic as people from inside came out to see what all the commotion had been about, Eric took charge as he ordered a group of uniformed officers to usher people back inside to safety. Other officers were deployed to help look for survivors and provide support to the emergency services as they began arriving on the scene. The constant screeching of sirens and car alarms became nothing more than a background noise as Eric made his way over to his colleagues.

"Looks like a car bomb," Ryan said as he began taping off as much of the scene as he could.

"Did you see anything?"

Ryan shook his head, "Walter and I just heard the blast and came running." He gestured his head towards the steps where the two injured officers were laying as paramedics swarmed around them desperately. "Doesn't look good for those two, we can add murder to the terrorist charges."

Walter looked up from where he had crouched, "You think it was a terrorist attack?"

Ryan shrugged his shoulders, "Your guess is as good as mine."

_"I know exactly who is behind this," _Eric thought before instructing his colleagues to preserve as much evidence as possible hoping that when they processed it later it would lead back to the Malucci's.


	52. Chapter 52

**I was intending to post this yesterday but ran out of time:**

Calleigh moved quickly as she heard the lock on the bathroom door being disengaged, she let out a small sigh of relief as she pulled herself to her feet. As the door opened she saw the man that she had secretly loved for so long looking at her uncertainly, that little head slant and shyness that he reserved only for the people closest to him. He looked away as he asked her, "How did you end up here in Miami?"

She smiled at the question as he mind wandered back to the week Horatio had spent with her in New Orleans.

* * *

**Flashback. New Orleans 1999:**

The case of the South Beach Slaughters had kept Horatio Caine in New Orleans for longer than he had intended but he told himself that it wasn't such a bad thing as it meant he could spend more time with the beautiful and alluring Calleigh Duquesne. Although her ballistics expertise were not needed on his case she had been drafted in to help him, most of the rest of her team had spent the week working through the evidence of a major road traffic accident that had taken the lives of eleven people.

He found Calleigh to be engaging company and her enthusiasm for the job was infectious, best of all she had the brains and the balls to back up her undeniable beauty. She had accompanied him on his interviews and visits to areas with potential evidence pertinent to his case as well as showing him some of the best parts of the city at night. He found himself feeling genuinely sad as he packed up his case files in readiness to return to Miami, he placed the lid on the box and debated whether to pay Calleigh a visit in her lab. _"Go and see her, you'll regret it if you don't."_

Letting his heart rule his head he took a deep breath and made his way to the ballistics lab, his breath caught as he stood in the doorway watching her firing test shots, how could one woman make shooting a gun look so alluring?

As if sensing she had company, Calleigh turned round and smiled brightly as she saw who had come to visit her. Placing the 9mm gun down and pulling off her ear protectors she walked over to him, "Horatio, what are you doing down here, I thought you were getting ready to leave this afternoon?"

He wasn't sure but he could have sworn her heard disappointment in her voice, "I was. I'm all packed ready to go. I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye." He gave her an awkward, almost boyish smile as he glanced up at her and then back down at the ground. He was glad he had his sunglasses in his hands as at least it gave him something to fiddle with and occupy his attention.

Her heart melted at his words, she realised that she hadn't had this much fun on the job for years. There was something special about the redhead, his empathy for victims and his tenacity to go after the criminals with the full force of the law had left her wanting to learn more about him. She realised that he was a man of many layers and she had enjoyed spending the last few days peeling back a few of them. She knew that she had barely scratched the surface and it saddened her to think that she would not get the chance to know him better. He was somewhat of an enigma and she found herself attracted to his mysterious nature, she had no doubt that he was a good and just man but she wanted to know what made the man behind the image tick.

"We have an opening at our lab in Miami; we could do with a CSI like you."

His voice was quiet but full of certainty, he had made up his mind that Calleigh would fit in perfectly in his team, and the fact that he found himself physically attracted to her had nothing to do with it. He was older than her and too much had happened in his life to risk having his heart broken again, he told himself that his relationship with the stunning Southern belle was based on nothing more than a mutual admiration of each other's work ethic. He found her company addictive as she began to waken parts of his heart that he thought had died many years ago, she somehow made his days brighter with her beaming smile and infectious laugh. He'd become used to her presence this week and the thought of no longer sharing it darkened his already melancholy mood.

"You know, I've always wanted to visit Miami." Her voice broke through his internal meanderings and he looked up at her. "I hear the beaches and the nightlife are great, I've been thinking about making a change for a while."

"Well, Miss Duquesne, I can assure you that you would be a welcome addition to our team. Contact me when I'm back in Miami if you're serious about transferring." He handed her a card with his contact details and gave her another shy smile before leaving the lab.

* * *

**Miami. Present day: **

"I transferred to Miami less than a month later; I found I missed your company and you made it sound like too good an opportunity to miss."

He followed her as she walked back down the stairs and into the lounge again, "I guess you're regretting it now, getting involved in this whole mess."

"Not at all. Sure, there have been some pretty rough times along the way but I've loved my time here in Miami. I wouldn't change it for a second."

He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it as he hear a cell phone chirp, Calleigh flashed him an apologetic smile before reaching for her phone. Her face dropped as she took in Eric's words, "Ok, I'm on my way. I'll be there in about twenty minutes."

"What's happened?" Horatio asked quietly.

She wasn't sure she should tell him, Eric had already told her of his suspicions as to who was behind the bombing. Horatio felt guilty enough already and knowing the man he was it was inevitable that he would blame himself for the incident. If this week had taught Calleigh anything it was that keeping secrets from the people around you never did anyone any good, being open and honest seemed like the best option.

"There's been an incident at the crime lab…..a car bomb."

He closed his eyes and hung his head, "How many people died?"

"Two at the moment, there were about a dozen more people injured." He nodded his head sadly, still not looking at her. "I've been called in to help out; it's all hands on deck. I'm going to take you with me."

He looked up at her in shock, "You don't need to do that, just leave me here. I'll be fine." The thought of being surrounded by people that knew him when he didn't even know himself scared him a little. They would expect him to recognise them and would be disappointed when they didn't, even more of a reason to make him feel guilty for the things he had done. If he hadn't come to Miami none of this would have happened.

She stood up and held her hand out to him, "I'm not leaving you here on your own, you're coming with me so that I know you're safe."

"What about the officers at the front door?"

"I only trust our team; we don't know who the Malucci's may have got their claws into." Sensing his hesitance she grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him from the sofa, "Come on, let's go."

As they pulled out of the driveway neither of them noticed the black van watching the house from a distance.


	53. Chapter 53

Calleigh walked into the trace lab with Horatio following her meekly behind, "What have you got for me, Eric?"

He smiled at her down-to-business demeanour; it reminded her of the man stood behind her in the doorway. "Well it was definitely a car bomb, that's for sure," he said as he put down the pieces of debris in his hands and pulled his latex gloves off. "I'm just trying to figure out how it was detonated but I'm no expert with explosives." He looked sadly at Horatio knowing that he would have been able to figure it out quicker than any of the rest of the team.

Calleigh's eyes followed Eric's, "Why don't you sit down, you must be exhausted," she said as she pulled out a chair for Horatio. "Maybe spending some time here will help jog some more memories." He nodded his head slightly and sat watching as his two young charges put their heads together and tried to rebuild the bomb from the fragments that had had been recovered.

Eric threw his tweezers down in frustration sometime later, neither he nor Calleigh had been able to figure out the design of the explosive device. Tearing off his gloves and throwing them in the bin he suggested taking a break for coffee, Calleigh nodded her agreement which left the redhead sitting alone in the lab. Calleigh was satisfied that he would be safe enough and she was glad of the time apart from him to try to work through her feelings for him. His pass at her had been unexpected but not unwelcome, she had longed for the day when he would take her in his arms and declare his love for her. _He's not himself at the moment, what happens if he remembers everything and decides that kissing me was a mistake? _She wanted nothing more than to kiss him back but she knew that she couldn't take advantage of him in his weakened state; he needed time to come to terms with his past before he could even think of moving forward.

"Penny for them?"

Eric's deep voice penetrated the fog in her mind, not realising that she had sat playing with the handle of her coffee mug. Raising it to her mouth she took a gulp and grimaced at the cold and bitter taste.

"You've been staring at that mug for the last twenty minutes, found any answers in it yet?" he teased as he gave her a little smile.

"I wish I had, Eric."

Sensing her sadness Eric placed a hand on her shoulder, "Do you want to talk about it?"

_No,_ she thought but the need to tell someone overrode her sense of self-preservation. "Horatio kissed me earlier." She sighed and closed her eyes, waiting for Eric's angry reaction.

"Did you kiss him back?" his voice was quiet but there was no hint of accusation in his tone towards her.

"No, he took me by surprise. I panicked and pushed him away, I hurt him, Eric."

"Maybe you did the right thing," he held his hands up as she opened her mouth to protest. "Hear me out. H isn't himself at the moment; he doesn't know who he is or how he ended up here in Miami. He needs some time to figure things out, if you go rushing into something with him you're both going to end up hurt."

"Is this about me and you?" She narrowed her eyes at him knowing that he still had feelings for her even though their flame of passion had died out a long time ago.

"No it's about the two people I care most about, I don't want to see either of you get hurt." Her expression softened a little at his last remark, "Let's get back to the lab and see if we can figure out how the hell the Malucci's got that bomb here undetected."

Neither of them were prepared the sight that greeted them when they returned, Horatio had made his way over to the layout table and was currently placing fragments of the device back together. He stopped and looked over his shoulder has he heard them enter the room, he moved away from the table and started apologising, "Sorry, I shouldn't have touched it, I know it's evidence." He looked down at his hands, "I know enough not to go touching things with my bare hands, they taught us that one at the academy."

Eric was the first to speak, "How did you do that?" He looked in amazement at the pieces of the bomb lined up in order, he'd been looking at them for hours and yet Horatio had nearly figured the whole thing out in less than thirty minutes.

The redhead shrugged his shoulders, "I'm not sure. The longer I looked at the pieces the more sense they seemed to make, I don't even know how I knew." He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, "Why would I know how to make a bomb?" he asked out loud, it was then that the realisation hit him, had he made bombs for the Malucci's whilst he was undercover? How many innocent people had been killed if he had?

Eric could sense that Horatio's legs were about to give out only a few seconds before they actually did, he quickly grabbed a stool and eased his brother in law onto it. "Just sit down and take it easy for a minute," he looked at Calleigh in concern.

"I made bombs, I killed people." Horatio's voice was quiet, shocked.

"No you didn't," Eric placed both his hands on the redhead's shoulders and looked him square in the eyes, "You were on the bomb squad here years ago, that's how you know how to make one. You didn't kill anyone, you saved lives."

Horatio's hands balled into fists, "Then why don't I remember any of this!" He stood up quickly before Eric had time to stop him, "I don't know this place, and I don't belong here. This is too much." He paced the room like a caged tiger until the underlying fatigue from his injuries began to take their toll, his knees buckled as Eric once more helped him to sit down.

"Let's get you home, I think you could do with a rest."

His words were meant to be soothing but they only served to anger the confused lieutenant, "Stop treating me like a child!" He pushed Eric's supportive hand away roughly, "Don't you understand? I don't have a home or a life; I don't know where I belong anymore." His words died out as the last of his strength borne from his anger left his weary body to be replaced by a feeling of utter desolation. "I just want my old life back."

Eric looked helplessly at Calleigh and nodded at her to try her luck with their stubborn colleague, "Come on, the rest of the team have everything under control now. Let's go home and get something to eat."

After considering her words carefully he sighed and nodded his head before pushing himself up from the stool. He barely knew this woman yet could deny her nothing; he would follow her willingly to the gates of Hell and back if she asked him to.

The drive home was made in uncomfortable silence, Calleigh watched him out the corner of her eye as he rested his head against the passenger seat of her Hummer with his eyes closed. _Maybe it was a mistake taking him to the lab, he wasn't ready for it. _The other half of her brain told her it was the only logical thing to do, there was no way that she would have left him at the house, defenceless. She glanced at him again and saw the toll the day had taken on him, he should have still been in hospital recovering but they had made the decision to move him somewhere that she felt she could protect him. His anger and irritability were understandable given his current condition and she hoped that Eric was thick-skinned enough to bear the brunt of Horatio's anger and not hold it against him later.

She pulled up in the drive and nodded at the uniformed officers standing guard outside the house; taking off her seatbelt she nudged her slumbering passenger gently. "We're back, let's get you back inside."

He groaned as his eyes flickered open and the pain shot through his head, he was starting to feel the effects of a headache of mammoth proportions building. He undid his seatbelt with a shaky hand and stumbled out of the vehicle on decidedly wobbly legs only to be caught by his beautiful blonde guardian angel. With her arm intertwined with his for support they slowly made their way back to the house still completely unaware of the vehicle parked far away in the distance monitoring them.

* * *

"Can you see them?" a distinct New York accent barked down the phone.

"Yeah, boss, I can. Blondie and the redhead have just gone into the house."

"Good. Stay where you are; let me know when they're on the move again." The voice was terse.

"How long are we planning on just sitting on our asses watching this guy?"

"Until I tell you otherwise."

The young Malucci gang member shrugged his shoulders as he threw the disposable cell phone back on the passenger seat, taking a sip of his coke he raised the binoculars back to his face and continued with his mission.


	54. Chapter 54

Calleigh let out a deep breath as she leant back on her sofa, as soon as they had returned home Horatio had made his excuses and retired to her guest bedroom. She had tried to offer him her en-suite but he had politely declined, telling her that he was tired and wanted to rest. She took a long look at his face and nodded her head; he looked exhausted and was no doubt not ready to have spent as long on his feet as he had today. She berated herself for taking him out of the hospital so soon but in reality she didn't really have a choice, at least here she and the team could protect him, there were too many variables and risks if he'd stayed at the hospital. The attack on the crime lab only served to strengthen her conviction that she had made the right choice, hopefully the Malucci's had left something behind that would lead the team to their whereabouts before anyone else got hurt.

She knew that she would need to head back to the lab tomorrow, not only were the team working tirelessly to track down the people threatening Horatio's life they also had other cases piling up. _Crime never sleeps, s_he though bitterly to herself as she yawned. It hit her then how tired she felt, she realised that she had been pushing herself beyond her limits recently and it was beginning to take its toll on her. Worrying about Horatio and trying to keep the lab running smoothly was becoming more than she could cope with, Eric tried to help her out as best he could but she knew that ultimately the responsibility was hers. The Captain had already started asking questions, being Horatio's second in command she was responsible for reporting to her superiors in his absence. Her cell phone had chirped earlier in the evening and she had reluctantly answered it only to be told that her attendance at a meeting with the Captain was required in the morning, despite her protests that the lab was under pressure and understaffed Hernandez would not take no for an answer.

It was lucky then that she managed to get hold of Horatio's old partner, Andy Sipowicz who was planning to return to New York the day after tomorrow. She and Eric had tried to convince him to stay, arguing that it would help Horatio to have at least one person around him that he remembered but the gruff former detective declined telling them that he could better serve his friend by making enquiries back in New York in an attempt to shake up some leads for the team to follow. Calleigh was relieved when Andy agreed to spend tomorrow at her house, hoping that it would help to lift Horatio's dark mood.

Andy's stance had certainly softened towards his former partner since their first meeting in the hospital earlier in the week but Calleigh was aware that it would take more than an explanation and an apology to make up for the years of hurt Horatio's undercover mission had caused the older man. Both men were in a state of shock from the recent revelations about their shared past and it would do them both good to talk to each other and make up for lost time with tomorrow being the perfect opportunity to do that.

Mustering up the energy to move, Calleigh dragged her weary body into the kitchen to make herself one last coffee before retiring for the night. The plate of food that she had put by for Horatio sat on the counter and had long since gone cold, when she had crept up to his room earlier she had found him lying on his side deeply asleep. He had looked peaceful and his face had taken on an almost boyish look, the worry lines and permanent frown that he seemed to be wearing recently were no longer evident. She placed the tray of food down and walked over to the bed to study him more closely, the urge to reach out and touch him became too much as she stroked an errant lock of his auburn hair away from his forehead. She froze as he mumbled and twitched and let out a sigh of relief when he did not wake, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead she picked up the tray and closed the door quietly.

Shaking the thoughts from her head she went through the motions of making herself a drink, it was then that she saw her purse lying on the kitchen table and a familiar-looking photo frame peeking out of the top of it. She had sat with Horatio as he looked through the photos that he had kept in his office drawer but she had not got round to showing him this one, knowing that there was only so much a person could handle in one day. Normally a man in complete control of his emotions Horatio had shown today how disorientating and unsettling it was to lose the memories of almost half of your life, trying to find his way in a world that he didn't understand had made his moods irrational and unpredictable, snapping at the people around him in anger and frustration. She could tell that Eric was struggling to come to terms with the changes in his brother in law, they had grown so close, especially in the years since Marisol's death and to be treated like a stranger by the redhead cut him to the bone, rational thinking went out of the window when matters of the heart were involved.

The jealousy that Eric had shown towards her cut her deeply too, although their romance had died out some time ago Eric could not help the bitterness he felt whenever he saw his former flame getting close to Horatio. In a cruel twist of irony he found himself jealous of both of them and the closeness they shared and even though Horatio had no recollection of her he had trusted her almost from the first moment he set eyes on her. Being pushed away to the side had been a bitter pill to swallow after everything he had done for his late sister's widower.

Taking the picture of out of her bag she ran a reverent finger over the gold frame, inside was a picture of Horatio and his son, Kyle who was dressed in his Army uniform. As they stood arm in arm and smiled for the camera it was clear to see the likeness between the two of them, especially those deep blue eyes that they shared. She knew how deeply it had hurt Horatio to find out that he had a son that he hadn't known about for so many years and he had done everything in his power since then to forge a relationship with Kyle. The road had been rocky at first but Horatio had never given up on his son, it was yet another trait of his that Calleigh admired, his tenacity and unwillingness never to give up no matter the personal cost to him. His patience had paid off as Kyle slowly became a much larger part of his life, the path they had travelled together had not always run smoothly but a deep bond of trust and respect had grown between them. She could see the similarities in their personalities too; Kyle had inherited his father's stubbornness which had often led to arguments between the two of them, especially when it came to Kyle's insistence on returning to the frontline in Afghanistan. His father had wanted him close by to be able to protect him but Kyle had made up his mind not to desert his fellow 'brothers' in the Army. Fierce loyalty to those around them was yet another thing they shared, each would willingly give their lives to protect others and although she feared for the young man's safety she knew Horatio was proud of the man his wayward son had become. _Telling him can wait until tomorrow; right now he needs to rest. _She placed the photo on the worktop before casting one last glance around the room and turning out the light.

* * *

The shrill ringing of the telephone woke him up, he quickly ran his hand over the passenger seat as he groped for and picked it up before answering.

"Any movement yet?"

_Shit, Gianni._ He ran a hand over his face a couple of times in an effort to wake himself up fully, his boss would kill him if he found out he had been sleeping on the job. "It's all quiet, boss," he replied as he saw the lights go out on the first floor of the building. "Looks like they're calling it a night."

"And what about the men guarding the house?"

He grabbed his binoculars and focused in on the officers in their patrol cars, "Still there, I've been keeping an eye on the times of their shift changes."

The man on the end of the phone let out a smug chuckle, "Good, soon it will be time to make our move."


	55. Chapter 55

_He came back to awareness slowly, groaning deeply as he tried to lift his head. He managed to lift it slightly before his strength gave out, not even wincing as his wounded face made contact with the cold and unforgiving marble floor. He hadn't realised that he had closed his eyes, the next thing he became aware of was a fireman placing a hand on the shoulder that wasn't buried under debris, he opened his mouth to speak but coughed as he inhaled a lungful of dusty air._

_"Don't try to move, we'll get you out of here in no time." The voice above him spoke in a reassuring manner, before ordering his colleagues to help lift the rubble that had him pinned to the ground._

_He coughed weakly again and opened his eyes, trying and failing several times to get the words out. "Hutchings….." he stopped as he coughed again, "Hutchings….have you found him yet?"_

_He felt the hand on his shoulder move up and down slightly, "Take it easy, we've pulled him out already. A few cuts and bruises and a bang on the head but other than that he's fine."_

_"Good," he let out in a breathy whisper as the darkness came to claim him once more, the ringing in his ears intensifying with each painful breath he tried to take. Soon he was seeing stars as his vision began to cloud and then, nothingness._

* * *

Horatio woke with a start, gasping for air. Waking up in a pitch black room did little to ease the unnerving sense of claustrophobia he felt, grabbing wildly for the bedside lamp he switched it on and tried to calm his breathing. He ran a shaky hand over his face and hoped that he hadn't cried out in his sleep and disturbed Calleigh. Minutes passed and he heard no movement from the other room, as his heart rate returned to normal he began to feel the pounding of his head increase. _What would I do without Calleigh? _he thought as he eyed the painkillers she had left on the bedside table for him, he swallowed them and took a swig of water, laying his head back down gingerly on the pillow he closed his eyes and waited for sleep to claim him once more.

The sound of soft knocking woke him; he opened his eyes slowly and allowed them time to gradually adjust to the daylight streaming in through the windows. He pulled himself up higher in the bed and beckoned his visitor to come in; he couldn't help the smile that crept across his face as Calleigh entered the room.

"I thought you might like to wake up to a coffee," she suggested as she held the mug up.

"Thank you, Calleigh. You didn't have to bring it up; I would have come down for it."

"Nonsense." Walking over to the bed she placed the coffee down and sat on the opposite side of the bed. "How did you sleep last night?" she asked as she took a sip from her own mug.

His gaze dropped, he wasn't quite sure how to answer her, most of yesterday had passed in a jumbled blur and his muddled mind was still trying to make sense of everything, he remembered snapping at Eric even though the poor man had done nothing wrong. "About yesterday…." he began, "It was a lot to take on board, I probably acted like an ass to you and Eric. I'm sorry."

She placed her mug down and took his face in both her hands, "You have nothing to be sorry for. God knows how I would be reacting if I were in your shoes," she mused out loud and then instantly regretted it as she saw the pain flicker across his face, removing her hands she quickly changed the subject. "I have to go to the lab today, I'm not sure how long I'll be away but I've asked Andy to come over and stay with you."

He knew she meant well but he felt as if he were being treated like some kind of weak old man, "I'm a grown man, I can take care of myself, you know," he growled as he scowled at her. His heart and head were waging an internal battle with each other, his mind telling him that the deep connection he felt to the beautiful woman sitting across from him could not be reciprocated by her. He had seen his reflection recently and had not liked what he saw, a haggard old man. Why would Calleigh want to spend her time with some old fool like him? Life had passed him by and left him in its slipstream, tossed aside like a piece of garbage, old, obsolete and unwanted. He was a man and although he may have lost his memory he still had his ego and his pride, Calleigh meant well but he felt smothered by her insistence that he be babysat twenty-four hours a day, to a man such as him it felt emasculating.

She sighed and rose from the bed, "We've been through this before, there are people out there who want you dead and I'm not leaving you here on your own until we've got them in custody."

"You don't think I can look after myself?" he asked like a petulant child denied his favourite toy.

"Not with a hole in the back of your head, no!" Horatio leant back against the headboard shocked at her outburst, it was the first real show of anger he'd seen from her since he'd woken up in the hospital. "You can barely walk a few yards without someone holding you up. Right now there are a gang out looking for revenge against you, they're just waiting for the opportunity to strike, whether you like it or not you need someone here to protect you if they try."

His reaction took her by surprise too, "Ok," he said as he nodded, his head hung low as he clasped his hands together. "I'm sorry; I just don't like the thought of you all being put in danger for me."

"This may come as a shock to you but you have a family around you that cares. It kills me to think of what you went through back in New York, whatever the Malucci's throw at us we'll face it together, ok?"

He raised his head to look at her briefly before dropping his gaze again. Satisfied that she had got through to him she closed the door and told him to come down for breakfast when he was ready.

* * *

Horatio sat at the dining table as he watched Calleigh potter around in the kitchen cooking breakfast, he had already tried to persuade her that he didn't feel that hungry but she had refused to listen. He took a deep breath to sigh and caught a smell of something burning it was then that his dream from last night assaulted him again.

_He felt the pressure on his legs and back release suddenly and then found himself being lifted and placed on something much softer and comfortable than the cold marble floor he'd been laying on. He opened his eyes and looked into the eyes of the man who had spoken to him earlier._

_"You back with us, Mr Caine?"_

_The voice was muffled and drowned out by the intense ringing in his ears; he blinked a couple of times to try to remove the haziness from his vision. Dust floated in the air around them like a shower of fireflies as the strength of the Miami sun lit the powdered remnants of the federal building as they fell back down to earth haphazardly. He tried to move his head to look down at his body but found himself unable to; he looked at the face above him quizzically as he felt the presence of a neck brace._

_"Just a precaution 'til we get you checked out at the hospital, just keep still and let us do the work."_

_He tried to block out the high pitched squealing in his ears but worse than that was the acrid smell of burnt hair and flesh which combined with the dust and detritus that had been disturbed by the search and rescue team's attempts to free his pinned body had left his stomach feely decidedly queasy. _

_He could barely make out the words and quickly gave up on trying to move, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to be carried away, not really caring where he was being taken._

_"Horatio?"_

_He could have sworn he heard a familiar voice calling his name. With an extreme amount of effort he opened his eyes and found himself looking into the face of his boss, Al Humphries._

_"Horatio, thank God." He felt the older man grab his hand and give it a squeeze, "You're going to be alright, kid." Al's visage was then replaced by that of a paramedic who placed an oxygen mask over his face and started spouting medical jargon that he didn't understand. He felt himself being lifted again and then strapped down, the vile stench from the building being replaced with the sterile smell of an ambulance. He heard someone calling his name again but his strength had deserted him as the darkness claimed him again._

"Horatio, can you hear me?"

He blinked as he came crashing back down to reality, the smell of burnt bacon still lingering in the air. Slowly his eyes focused on the woman crouching down in front of him, looking at him with grave concern.

"Did you have another flashback?" she asked as she leaned back on her haunches, relieved that he was back with her.

He was saved from answering by the sound of the doorbell ringing, Calleigh left the room to answer it and he winced as he heard the familiar voice in the hallway.


	56. Chapter 56

"Yeah, boss, I just saw the pretty blonde leave the house."

"Alone?"

"Yep, the old fat guy from the hospital's come back though."

"And what about the patrol cars?"

"Two in the drive, shift will probably change over in an hour or so. What do you want me to do?"

"Sit tight; I'll call you when it's time."

* * *

Calleigh parked the Hummer in the lab's lot and after placing her purse in her locker made her way to the break room, she was greeted by Ryan's warm smile.

"Hey, Cal. How's H?"

She walked over to the freshly brewed coffee pot and poured herself a mug, "Tired, mainly, I think." She blew on the hot liquid to cool it slightly before taking a sip, "I think he's struggling with the holes in his memory, there's so much he doesn't understand."

"But the doctors said it would come back, right?" he looked at Calleigh expectantly.

"They have no way of knowing, he's had a few memories come back so I guess that's a good sign." She looked down at her drink, not wanting to make eye contact with her colleague.

Attempting to lift the sombre mood in the room Ryan changed the subject, "H putting those bomb fragments in order gave me an idea. I've called in someone from the bomb squad to see if they can help trace the origins of the device."

Calleigh felt a small sense of hope ignite within her, "That's great, Ryan. Are they here yet? Have they found anything?"

He held his hands up to halt the flow of questions, "The guy got here about an hour ago, he's in the trace lab looking the fragments over."

Gulping down the last of her coffee Calleigh placed a hand on Ryan's arm, "Good work, Ryan," before rushing from the room imbued with a new sense of excitement that the team might be able to track down the Malucci's before they found a way to Horatio.

As she entered the trace lab Calleigh saw a tall and wiry man leaning over the table, she cleared her throat and knocked on the open door.

"Hello there." He turned to greet her as he placed the bomb fragment and magnifying glass back down on the surface he was working from. "I'm Simon Hutchings, I was asked to come down and have a look at these fragments for you." Taking his latex gloves off he reached out to shake her hand.

She took it and looked at the man in front of her, trying to assess if he was friend or foe. The underlying threat from the Malucci's had left her wary of the intentions of those she didn't know, right now all she trusted was her team. _Horatio's team, _she corrected herself.

The gangly and awkward looking man in front of her didn't seem as if he could pose a threat but she knew appearances could be deceptively deadly. He was dressed in khaki coloured pants and a light blue shirt, open at the first few buttons. His dark blonde hair was combed neatly back in a style that reminded her so much of Horatio, his green eyes appeared kind and friendly as he gave her a small smile. "I don't bite, I promise," he added as he saw the guarded look she was giving him.

Ignoring his comment she let go of his hand and peered over the evidence on the table, "Have you found anything yet?"

_All business, just like someone else I knew. _Putting on a new pair of gloves he picked a two inch piece of metal with his tweezers and held it up to her. "Looks like the device was planted by the gas tank for maximum effect, held there by duct tape probably. I've found parts of the timer and the relay, it was certainly detonated remotely." Picking up another fragment he spoke again, "This part has come from a cell phone which is likely how they triggered the detonation which means that the perps could have been miles away when they set it off."

"Any clues as to who might have made this?"

He placed the fragment down again and looked Calleigh in the eyes, "The device was packed with nails and other bits of metal, placing it by the gas tank meant it had a huge impact when it went off, anyone standing within 50 feet of the vehicle would likely have been killed."

Calleigh nodded her head sadly, "We have two dead already and another five still in the hospital, some might not make it."

"Whoever did this meant business, I've seen this kind of work before and I have a few ideas as to who might have built a bomb like this. Once I've finished up with my analysis I can run them by you if you like."

Her expression softened towards him, "That would be great, I'm sorry if I came off as being a bit unfriendly," she said by way of apology.

"It's fine, from what I hear there's a lot going on round here at the moment." He wasn't sure if he should mention the events of the last week or so but news had travelled fast around the department and he was eager to find out if the rumours about his former colleague were true. "I hear Horatio has been injured, is he ok?"

The comment caught her off guard and she immediately switched back to her previous defensive stance towards him. "You know Horatio?"

He held a hand up in supplication, "We worked on the bomb squad together, a long time ago."

Her eyes narrowed, still not convinced. "You did?"

"Yes, I was a wet-behind-the-ears rookie when I knew him. He saved my life, you know."

* * *

**Flashback. Miami 1998:**

"Hutchings, try not to look so scared. You'll be fine." Horatio gave his nervous colleague a friendly pat on the shoulder as they stocked the Miami Dade Bomb Response vehicle with supplies. The team had been called to reports of a suspicious-looking bag being left in the federal courthouse, as a precaution they had been called out to assess whether it was indeed an explosive device.

The transition from everyday detective to a member of the bomb squad had not been a simple one, when he arrived for his first day in his new role he cursed the day he had ever met Agent Collins. He knew the FBI operative was the one behind his transfer and viewed it as another way to keep him off his guard and looking over his shoulder. If Collins plan was to rile him it backfired, he found his boss Al Humphries a kindly and engaging man who had a wealth of experience and knowledge in explosive devices and who was only too happy to share it with him.

The nerves of the first few weeks on the job were soon replaced with a feeling of confidence and contentment, something that he had not felt in years. In Al's team he finally felt as if he belonged somewhere, the older man could instinctively sense the unease in him but never questioned what he tried so valiantly to hide from the surface. Al just accepted him for who he was, faults and all, and provided him with a much-needed level of support that had been lacking from his life for more years than he could remember.

It surprised him when he found that he had an affinity for disarming explosive devices and how interested he became in finding out how they worked. Al was full of knowledge and shared it freely with the members of his team but Horatio found himself wanting to know more and soon began studying in his own free time to satiate his hunger to learn. He realised that his eagerness to study was probably no more than a crutch to him, another addiction to replace the others in his life. Years ago he had tried to lose himself in alcohol or narcotics and now he had replaced those vices with another, spending all his spare waking moments engrossed in a science textbook helped to quieten the negative voices in the back of his mind, the voices that wanted to pull him back into the abyss his life had become back in New York, by ignoring it he hoped it would go away.

His eagerness and rock-steady hands had seen Horatio rise quickly through the ranks in the bomb squad until he became Al's second in command. He still had no idea what the older man saw in him but he was grateful for the opportunities Al had afforded him, he hoped that one day he would be able to emulate his mentor and help others the way Al had helped him. He was given a chance to try when a gawky young officer was transferred into the team, skinny and tall the young man didn't look much older than twenty five.

"Horatio, he's all yours," Al had told him on the new guy's first day. He had given his boss a distinctly unimpressed look that Al shrugged off as he walked away, "We all have to start somewhere."

Simon Hutchings had been awkward at first but keen to learn, the young man had a sensible head on his shoulders but he would never graduate from the lab until he got his nerves under control. The way his hands shook as Horatio tried to teach him how to disarm a test device left the redhead in no doubt that if Simon's hands shook with a real bomb that the outcome would not be favourable to any of them.

_"Simon, I need you to listen to my voice. Can you do that for me?" He kept his voice calm and steady as he spoke to the young man who nodded his head._

_"Don't think about what you're holding in your hands. Imagine you're on a beach, the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore, the sounds of birds in the trees. Can you do that?" Again Simon nodded as his hands began to shake a little less._

_"Pretend it's a baby bird you have in your hands, keep your hands gentle and still. Now, look down at it." Horatio's voice was almost hypnotic as he watched Simon's hands still completely. "See the blue wire?" he asked as the other man nodded, "I need you to cut that for me, ok?"_

_Simon did as he was told and let out a shaky breath as the timer on the device beeped twice and then silenced._

_"Well done, Simon. You've just disarmed your first bomb, good work, son."_

Horatio and his protege stood by the van waiting for directions from Al. "Right, Jenkins and I will take the bag in the main hall. I want you and Hutchings to check the rest of the floor for secondary devices." Horatio nodded his head at his mentor's instructions as he clipped a radio to the belt on to his pants. Pulling a flak jacket over his head he signalled for his nervy colleague to follow him.

Sensing the younger man's unease he turned his upper body towards him as he continued down the darkened corridor, "Try to keep calm, I need you to concentrate."

Simon ran a shaky hand through his hair, "I'm trying. This is completely different to being in the lab, this is real."

"I know, son. That's why I need you to keep your eyes and your ears open."

Horatio lowered his torch as his radio crackled with the voice of his boss, "The bag is clean, no sign of any explosives. Find anything your end?"

"Negative. Hutchings and I are still searching, we'll keep you updated."

He placed the radio back on his belt and motioned for his colleague to walk ahead of him, "Keep your eyes peeled, that bag could have been a decoy."

The two of them had almost walked the perimeter of the building and were checking the last corridor when Simon stopped suddenly, hearing the tell-tale click of a device being armed. He lowered his torch to where his feet stood almost in slow motion and gulped in a shaky breath as he saw the taught wire caught underneath his foot.


	57. Chapter 57

"Oh God, Oh God, Oh God," he began to repeat over and over as his body shook uncontrollably.

Horatio came up beside him and peered down, "Keep calm, Hutchings. We'll get you out of this."

The younger man shook his head violently, "No, you need to get out of here. This thing is going to blow if I move."

"I can't do that, son." Horatio's voice was firm and steady, hoping to imbue some of his strength into the young man in front of him. "Stay exactly where you are, I'm going to see where this wire leads."

He followed the thin trail until he reached the source, his eyes widening as they fell on the intricate looking device hidden snugly behind a large wooden display case. Carefully inching the furniture towards him he peered down to get a closer look and grimaced at what he saw. Wired into the device was a motion sensor, as soon as Hutchings released the pressure on the wire it would take mere seconds for the mercury spirit gauge to tip from its horizontal position and set off a deadly explosion. Whoever had made the bomb had been smart enough to install a fail-safe, when Hutchings had stepped on the wire it had immediately triggered a timer connected to the explosives. One look at the bricks of C4 told Horatio that the blast would likely bring most of the building down around them should it detonate.

"Well, what did you find?" Hutchings asked nervously as perspiration dripped down his forehead and off the tip of his nose.

"Nothing you need to worry about, son. Just keep calm and we'll get you out of here," he lied, to tell his colleague the truth would not do any good. He needed to think clearly without Hutchings' nervy babbling. "_Five minutes and counting. Think man, think!"_

Suddenly the radio by his hip crackled into life, "Horatio, what's going on in there. Is it all clear?"

"Uh…that would be a negative, sir," he responded distractedly as he wracked his brains trying to figure a way out whilst keeping him and his colleague alive, he checked his watch and saw that he had less than four minutes to figure out a solution.

"What do you mean, give me a sit rep. Now!" Al barked into his radio.

"There was a secondary device, it's been triggered. Trip wire and a timer, they've both been activated. Clear the area outside to at least three hundred feet, the thing is packed with enough C4 to blow the roof off." He let the hand holding the radio drop as he saw Hutchings startled expression.

"Are you compromised?"

"Negative, sir, but Hutchings is." His voice was calm and clear, he needed to keep his head to get his colleague out alive, there would be plenty of time to panic later, if they got out their current predicament in one piece.

"You know the procedure, Horatio. You have to leave. Now" Al's tone brooked no argument.

"Negative, sir."

"Negative?!" Al spluttered with anger, "Get your ass out of there. Now!"

Horatio pressed the receiver on the radio in and out as he spoke in an effort to distort his communication with his boss.

"Could….repeat….last….instruction…over," was all that came through at the other end as the head of the bomb squad threw his radio down in frustration, he knew exactly what the stubborn redhead was up to and prayed that his insolence wouldn't get both him and Hutchings killed.

Horatio dropped the radio on the floor and cast a glance over to Hutchings, raising his eyebrow as Al Humphries sent a string of expletives through the airwaves.

"Ok, I need you to listen carefully to me. Can you do that?"

Hutchings nodded his head quickly, taking no notice of the sweat pouring off his own face. "Ye…..Yes."

"We have less than two minutes left, disturbing the trip wire is not going to make much difference when that timer runs out. I figure we have about ten seconds from the time you move your foot to the explosion. When I tell you to I want you to run as fast as you can towards the end of that corridor. Understand?"

Hutchings nodded again and then gasped when Horatio carefully stepped over the wire so that he was now in front of him. "What are you doing? You should run now and get out of the blast area."

"I can't do that, son. Besides, you're barely 110lbs soaking wet, you're not going to afford me much protection if you're behind me." He adjusted the straps on his flak jacket, "I've got a few years on you, no doubt you can run faster than I can. I'd only slow you down."

The younger man shook his head, "I can't let you do this, you need to leave me here."

"I told you, I can't do that. You're fiancé is pregnant, is she not?"

"Yeah, she's due next month."

"You're starting a family, they're going to need you to be there for them."

"What about you?"

The question took Horatio by surprise; he hadn't honestly thought about himself, all of his attention had been focused on trying to get his colleague out of their dire situation in one piece. When he considered it his actions made even more sense, Hutchings had a partner and a child on the way whereas he had nothing and no one to go home to. Perhaps giving his life so that Hutchings could survive would help even the balance and go some way to repairing the heartache that he caused to his own loved ones all those years ago in New York.

Glancing back down at his watch he decided it was now or never, pushing Hutchings off the wire he screamed at the younger man to run as he took one final look down the corridor before setting off behind him. Time seemed to move in slow motion as he counted down from ten in his mind, he knew trying to outrun the blast would be futile but he had to try. He had reached zero all too soon and soon felt the tendrils of heat rushing towards him, feeling the flames licking at his back as he scurried as far away from the blast as he could. Then he felt the pressure as the air was sucked out of the room, he saw the flash of light before he heard the deafening concussion of the blast and wondered absent-mindedly if they would find his body in one piece before everything went black.

* * *

**Miami. Present day:**

"He should have left me and got out himself but he didn't," Hutchings mused as he sat down on a stool.

"That's Horatio for you," Calleigh responded, she knew it was the actions of the man she had fallen so deeply in love with, selfless and with more regard for others safety than his own.

"When they pulled me out all I wanted to know was if they'd found him. I thought for sure he'd be dead." He ran a hand through his hair, "I was so relieved when they brought him into the room next to me at the hospital. He had a concussion, a few cracked ribs and a broken ankle but apart from that he was ok, I'd never been so happy to see someone in my life." Simon smiled wistfully as he recalled the long-forgotten memory.

"What about you, were you hurt in the blast?"

"I took a knock on the head and had a hell of a lot of cuts and bruises but I was ok. I felt like I'd been hit by a truck though." He gave her a shy smile, "It meant that I was home to see my little boy being born." He pulled out his wallet and showed her the photograph, "We gave him the middle name Caine, silly huh?"

If she had been in any doubt before, Calleigh now knew that she could trust the man in front of her, Hutchings owed his life to Horatio and she hoped that he would now be able to return the favour and help track down the bastards that were after her beloved redhead.


	58. Chapter 58

**Here's the next part for you, Happy Easter!**

Andy Sipowicz stood awkwardly in the doorway between the hall and the kitchen, he couldn't remember the last time he felt so uncomfortable around his old partner. Each time he had visited him in the hospital he had been accompanied by either Eric or Calleigh and now to be left alone with the man he had grown to hate for so many years made him feel distinctly unsettled. The feelings of hate and mistrust had been replaced with those of heartache and sorrow as John's true identity was finally revealed, now Andy only had feelings of hate for himself that he had been so ready to believe that his surrogate son was dirty. He admonished himself for not seeing the signs that were now so starkly evident in hindsight, wishing he could go back and change what had happened between them. John had risked his life to keep him and everyone else around him safe, he had isolated himself and pushed his loved ones away, Andy cursed his stupid pride for letting John do it so successfully.

"There's coffee in the pot if you want it." His friend's voice was quiet as he sat at the table in the kitchen fiddling with the mug in his hands.

"Coffee sounds great." Andy groaned at his own lacklustre attempt at appearing jovial and relaxed. Walking over to the counter he poured himself a mug and added several spoons of sugar to the black liquid. He saw the other man giving him an amused look, "What?" he asked testily.

"That much sugar isn't good for you, I can't believe you still load your coffee up like that," the redhead responded, almost wistfully.

Andy hiked his trousers up over his considerable gut, "It's a bit late for me to start worrying about getting a six pack. Might as well enjoy life while I still can, you never know when you might kick the bucket."

Horatio's smile faltered at the older man's poor choice of words, "Guess so."

Andy cursed himself inwardly; he knew he had put his foot in it. The pair of them sat in awkward silence, neither looking at the other.

"How is Andy Jnr?"

If he hadn't already been sitting down Andy was sure that his legs would have given out beneath him at his partner's innocent question. 1996 had been one of the worst years of his life, not only did he have to contend with the 'death' of his former partner it was also the year that his eldest son had been killed in a robbery gone wrong. The impact of both of these incidents had sent him spiralling down into another phase of alcoholism, his previous years of sobriety meaning nothing to him as his world came crashing down around him. It felt as if he had lost two sons for that was how he regarded his young and eager partner, fate had meant the two men met at a time in both their lives when they needed each other the most whether they realised it or not. Andy saw in John a chance to atone for the mistakes he had made with his own son, he had taken the rookie detective under his wing and showed him the affection and love he had never shown to his own child.

The shock of discovering John's involvement with the Malucci's hit him like a punch in the guts; he had been floored to think that his young charge could be capable of such actions. For years he carried the guilt of not caring enough about his partner to see the toll his double life was taking on him, he knew John would have his reasons for doing what he did but Andy never took the time to hear what they were. Even now he could still vividly remember the day that he and Bobby were called to scene of the badly burnt and mutilated body beneath the Brooklyn Bridge. The shock he felt as he realised the corpse was that of his former partner, it hit him then as he realised he would never get the chance to come face to face with the man he had grown to despise and ask him why he had thrown away everything he stood for to join a vicious bunch of criminals.

The birth of his youngest son should have been the happiest time of his life but only hours after Sylvia had brought Theo into the world Andy's life had been shattered by the news of the death of his eldest son, caught in the middle of a robbery gone wrong. Time and life seemed to lose all meaning to him. John's apparent death had left him reeling whilst Andy Jnr's had been the knockout blow that sent him crashing to the floor. Ignoring Sylvia's pleas, he had sought solace once more in the bottle, it was the one thing in his life that he could depend on not to judge him and he knew would never leave him. His years of sobriety fell by the wayside as he drowned his sorrows for the sons he had lost; it was only his relationship with Sylvia and his youngest child, Theo that kept him from drinking himself into an early grave.

His heart ached as he thought of his late wife, an innocent victim of a courthouse shooting. Andy could do nothing as he saw the bullet hit Sylvia square in the chest as she fell to the ground, he scrambled over to her as soon as the shooting had stopped but one look at her told him he was too late. "_Take care of the baby,"_ she had gasped with her last conscious breath and he had made a promise to her that he would. Theo was fast becoming an adult, studying law at university in an effort to emulate his mother, he had been so young when she'd died but Andy had made sure that his son knew everything he could about his wonderful mother.

He tried to keep his voice level as he finally spoke, "Andy Jnr died, John."

Horatio sat in stunned silence as he listened to his former partner recount the horrific memories as he one by one reeled off their deaths in an almost clinical fashion. He had abandoned his partner when he needed him the most, run away like a coward as he made a new life for himself halfway across the country. He wondered if he had ever given his loved ones in New York a second thought, he'd built relationships here in Miami that much was obvious by the way Calleigh and Eric had steadfastly stood by him since he'd woken up in the hospital. Had he forgotten about the people he'd left behind and the damage his actions had caused them?

"I'm so sorry," Horatio said finally after another tense silence filled the room.

"Why are you sorry?" Andy asked, perplexed at the statement.

"For what I put you through, I should have been there for you. I admired you so much; I never wanted things to turn out this way."

"You did what you had to do, John. Sure, I wish things had turned out differently too but it is what it is, we can't go back and change it now."

"Would you tell me, please? What happened to Lori and Robin after I left?"


	59. Chapter 59

**Flashback. New York 1996:**

He had come to Lori's apartment against his better judgement, Sylvia had harangued him for days to go and visit his former partner's ex-wife. If he were being honest with himself he was only here out of a sense of duty to Lori, not allowing himself a second thought for what John might have needed or wanted. The hatred and loathing he felt for his old partner ate away at him like a malignant growth in his guts, disgusted at how he could have allowed the man he considered a son to betray him and the badge for nothing more than his own sense of greed.

Sylvia had begged him to attend John's funeral but he had steadfastly refused, even Fancy had offered him a day's leave but he had chosen to work instead even though his mind was far from being on the job that day. The disagreements with his wife were beginning to wear on him and he began to wonder if living with her was worth the effort anymore. Had it not been for the imminent birth of their child he would have considered walking away by now, it was hard enough to walk the streets of Manhattan clearing up after the carnage of Kelly and his new friends the Malucci's without having to come home and listen to Sylvia bleat on in his ear about how he needed to 'deal with his feelings' and 'talk about his issues'. He wanted a wife not a psychologist and there were days when he was sorely tempted to tell her as much.

Deep down though he knew she was right. His feelings about John had been left to fester for too long like an open wound that refused to heal. His last real contact with his former partner had been the day that John had been arrested after being caught it possession of half a kilo of cocaine. John had given him short shrift as he went to visit him in the holding cells; the cold tone to the younger man's voice had hurt him before his pride kicked in and forced him to walk away from the man he thought he once knew. The last time they had come face to face John had levelled a gun at him and for the life of him he still couldn't work out why his former partner hadn't pulled the trigger.

Memories of the day John's body was discovered still haunted his waking moments and had a way of making their way into his dreams at night. The initial shock soon wore off only to be replaced by seething anger for now he knew he would never get a chance to bring his former charge to justice for the things he had done in the name of loyalty to the Malucci's. John had wreaked havoc and he had been left to clear up the pieces of the broken lives he had left behind. Maybe justice had been done in a way, John had paid for his sins with his life but had been spared the pain of having to see the looks on the faces of the people who had once loved and trusted him.

He raised his hands several times to knock on her door but couldn't bring himself to do it, each time he did he was suddenly overcome with the fear of not knowing what to say to her. The decision was taken out of his hands when he heard the chain rattle and the door creak slowly open.

"I wondered how long you were going to stand there before you started knocking." Lori gave him a strained smile that failed to reach her eyes.

"How did you know I was here?" he asked a little testily, annoyed at being caught.

She looked him up and down and blew a strand of hair from her face, "You've never exactly been light on your feet, Andy. I heard you walking down the hallway."

He huffed but said nothing as he stood awkwardly and avoided making eye contact.

"You coming in or are you gonna stand out there all night?" Her tone was light but even a fool could see the tension in her face, he nodded and followed her into her apartment before shutting the door behind him.

"The doc not home?" he asked as Lori motioned for him to sit on the couch.

"No, he's on shift until midnight. Can I get you a coffee?"

Pottering around in the kitchen Lori returned a few minutes later and handed a mug to him, nodding his thanks he sipped the hot liquid as he looked at his feet, unsure of what to say.

"Did Sylvia put you up to this?"

His head shot up at the question, he opened his mouth to respond but closed it again. Finally he spoke, "Maybe."

"I didn't see you there," Lori said quietly as she sat in the leather armchair across the room. "At the funeral, I mean," she added at his puzzled expression.

His cheeks coloured at her observation, "I couldn't face it. Cowardly, huh?"

"Not at all, I can understand why you're so angry at him. He betrayed you."

"He betrayed all of us, Lori. Doesn't that make you angry too?"

"It used to, now it just makes me feel sad. The man we buried yesterday wasn't the man I fell in love with, somewhere along the way he changed," she finished sadly as she took a sip of her coffee.

"Doesn't it make you mad, what he did?"

"Would it make a difference, Andy? Hating him is not going to change what happened. Right now I just feel bad that I didn't push him more after he was attacked, maybe if we'd all tried a bit harder he wouldn't have made the choices he did. It makes me sad to think that we'll never get the chance to ask him why."

"I can't get past it; I can't understand how he could have done those things. After everything I did for him he threw it all back in my face and treated me like some kind of fool!" he slammed the mug down on the table in frustration and watched as the brown liquid spilled over the rim and onto the solid oak piece of furniture.

"Maybe you should have come to the funeral and got closure on how you feel. John's gone now, you need to get past this and move on."

"Is that what you're doing?" he asked spitefully.

Lori let the biting comment pass, "I'll always care about John and although I don't understand why he made the choices he did I could never hate him. I loved him once and I know that he loved me too; you don't just stop caring about someone because they did something you don't agree with. I know that John would want me to be happy and move on with my life and that he'd want the same for you too."

"That asshole doesn't get to have what he wants, not this time!"

Andy quickly got to his feet and left Lori's apartment without a second look back, slamming the front door as he went, cursing himself for listening to Sylvia and ever agreeing to come here. Why was it that no one understood his anger and pain? He had sat and listened to Lori as she had tried to excuse the things that John had done, why couldn't she understand the justifiable bitterness he felt towards the younger man? Yes he was bitter and angry but most of all he was hurt that the man he had treated like his own son could turn on him so suddenly, the cuts ran even deeper when he realised that John had played him for a fool for too long, visiting Lori had only rubbed salt in the wounds. As he walked away from the apartment building and back to his car he silently wondered if the wounds to his heart and his pride would ever heal.


	60. Chapter 60

**Miami. Present day:**

Andy rubbed a weary hand over his face, "Laura moved on, John."

"I see," he responded quietly as he kept his gaze on the coffee mug.

"She ended up marrying that doctor she was seeing."

"Dr Danny?" Horatio sneered, recalling the smug paediatrician.

"Yeah, they had a couple of kids together and then divorced a few years later."

Was it wrong to feel happy that Lori's second marriage had failed just like the first? Even after they had broken up all he really wanted was for Lori to be happy, it hurt that he couldn't be the man to do that for her but he felt a small sense of satisfaction that Danny Schrager hadn't been able to either, he hadn't liked the man since he'd first set eyes on him. His heart ached with an almost physical pain to know that the woman he once loved so dearly had given life to that smug doctor's children. When he had met the young, ambitious lawyer he had fallen head over heels in love with her, as soon he had set eyes on Lori he knew he would marry her and dreamt of her giving birth to his children, making a family and a home together.

His thoughts returned the other woman he had cared for so deeply and had apparently left behind without a word of explanation. "What about Robin?"

Andy sighed heavily, he had hoped that John wouldn't ask him what had happened to her, more guilt was not what the younger man needed right now. Pushing the desire to protect his friend's feelings aside he chose to be honest. "She didn't take your betrayal well, John. She never got over you, things didn't end well."

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1996:**

Andy had a strange feeling of déjà vu as he stood outside the door to Robin's opulent penthouse apartment in Upper Manhattan; even from the hallway the panoramic views of the city were breath-taking. Steeling his courage he took a few moments to gather himself before knocking firmly on the door. After a few moments the door creaked open and he came face to face with Robin's tearful visage.

"Robin, if this is a bad time I can come back later," he offered, hoping that she would take him up on it so he could distance himself. Tending to emotional women had never been his forte.

She shook her head as she dabbed at her eyes, "No, please come in, Andy." She stepped aside and allowed him to enter, "Can I get you something to drink?"

"I'm good, thanks."

She sat in her favourite leather armchair, it had been the one John used to sit in when he stayed over, taking a deep breath she felt as if she could almost breathe in his essence as if he had only just been sitting there mere moments ago. "Have you found out who killed John?" she asked quietly.

He cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly on the couch he had perched on, "That's what I came here to talk to you about. We didn't have many leads to go on in the first place and the ones we did have didn't go anywhere. I came to let you know that the trail has gone cold and we're dropping the case." He braced himself for her reaction and kept his gaze firmly averted from hers.

"You can't do that, someone murdered him! You have to find out who did this to him!"

"There's nothing else we can do, Robin. I'm sorry." He was still too angry with his former partner to care about whether his killers were brought to justice but common decency kept him from telling her that, she was just another innocent victim left in the wake of John's betrayal.

Against his better judgement he glanced up as their eyes met, he squeezed his shut as he remembered she had that same look upon her face after he broke the news of John's death several weeks ago.

_Bobby killed the engine and turned to look at him, "I can go up and do this on my own if you want."_

_He shook his head and took a deep breath, still in a state of shock from the gruesome discovery earlier that morning. "No, I should be the one to do it. It'll be a bit easier on her hearing it from someone she knows."_

_His partner shrugged his shoulders and followed him to the steps of the expensive apartment building nodding his thanks to the doorman who allowed them entry, making sure their badges were clearly on show. _

_Together he and Bobby stood in the elevator and waited as it took them to the fourteenth floor, "It must cost a bomb to rent an apartment here," his partner mused as he looked around._

"_It costs even more to buy," he responded absent-mindedly as he fiddled with anything on his person that he could turn his attention to, he was not looking forward to delivering the news of John's death to Robin._

"_I don't get it," Bobby said as he ran a finger over the solid gold rail that lined the elevator, "If I was banging a chick as loaded as this one seems to be why be on the take with a bunch of lowlifes like the Malucci's? If it were me I'd definitely know which side my bread was buttered."_

_He was still reeling from their shock discovery this morning and reacted to his partner's flippant remark with characteristic anger. "Shut your mouth, Bobby, before I knock you on your ass."_

_The younger man bristled at his tone, "Why do you care? Kelly was on the take, maybe he got what he deserved."_

"_Maybe, but Robin is innocent in all of this, try to treat her with a bit of respect and decency."_

_Bobby shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and followed his partner from the elevator to the front door of Robin Wirkus' apartment. Andy knocked on the door and waited for an answer, he didn't need to open his mouth as the look on his face said it all._

"_You're here about John, aren't you?" Robin asked as she tried to keep her voice level and her hands from shaking._

_He avoided giving her a direct answer, "Would it be ok if we came in, Robin?"_

_Nodding, she stood back and motioned them in, asking as she closed the door, "Has something happened to him, has he been arrested again?"_

"_Maybe you should sit down, Robin." He had no idea how to break the news to her._

_The meaning of those unspoken words began to sink in; Andy was here to deliver bad news to her. She sat down on the edge of the couch and looked up at her guests, "He's dead, isn't he?"_

_Bobby answered before his partner had a chance to open his mouth, "It appears that way Miss Wirkus, we found his body this morning."_

"_Where?" she asked quietly._

"_Down by the Brooklyn Bridge," Bobby responded neutrally._

"_Are you sure it's him?"_

"_The remains were…damaged. The personal effects found with the body confirm the ID as that of John Kelly. I'm sorry, Miss Wirkus."_

"_Did he…..did he suffer?"_

_At that point he seemed to regain his awareness, he took over from Bobby as he answered, "He's with the M.E, we're waiting to get the results back about cause of death."_

"_Can I see him?"_

_He tried to be as gentle and sensitive as he could, "That's not a good idea, Robin. You need to remember him as he used to be."_

"_Do you know who did this to him?"_

"_We've got a few ideas; we're running down leads as we speak." He hesitated before continuing, "You know John was connected to the Malucci crime organisation, this is going to be splashed across the news for the next few days, and I thought you would prefer hearing the news from us."_

"_I do, thank you, Andy." Robin continued to perch precariously close to the edge of the couch as if at any moment she would topple over. "Please find who did this to him."_

_Adjusting the jacket of his suit he walked over and placed a hand on her shoulder, "We'll do our best."_

**Present day. Miami:**

"Robin never managed to move on, John. In 2000 she was diagnosed with breast cancer, it was terminal, she died about nine months later." Andy heard the other man gasp, "Don't go blaming yourself for that too, there was nothing anyone could have done."

"I should have been there to support her."

"Well, you weren't." He winced himself at the tone of his voice, he took a breath and tried again. "Things happen, John. Life moved on without you."

Suddenly he felt as if the walls were beginning to close in around him, the latest scraps of information he was being thrown were swirling around in his mind like a tornado. His fight or flight response took over as the redhead scurried from his chair and bolted to the lounge, leaving his former partner standing dumfounded in the kitchen.

"John, wait!" he called as he pushed himself up from his chair, using the kitchen table for support.

* * *

Gianni Malucci stood next to his black SUV, the time had finally arrived to strike and seek vengeance on the man who had torn his family apart and left him fatherless for the last eighteen years of his life. Checking that his gun was loaded with ammunition he nodded silently to his men to advance from their position towards the house. The element of surprise would be on their side; no doubt the police would not expect an attack from them in broad daylight. They were fools for underestimating the Malucci's and the first to pay for that folly would be the man who had betrayed his father and uncle. Justice would not be swift but he promised himself he would make it merciless for the man that double-crossed his family.


	61. Chapter 61

Calleigh made her way back quickly to the lab that Hutchings had been using to study the fragments from the car bomb after he had called her and told her that he had found something.

"What have you got?" she asked as she entered the room and walked over to the explosives expert.

"I found some partial prints on a couple of these fragments," he held the bits of mangled metal up to her as he spoke, "When I placed them together I managed to get a complete finger print, I've sent it to your colleague, Ryan, to run a search and see if anything pops."

"That's great work Mr Hutchings, thank you." She was slightly disappointed that he didn't have more for her but tried to hide it well. "You said that you've seen this kind of device before, have you got any ideas who may have made it?"

He gave her an encouraging smile before turning his attention to the computer terminal situated at the other end of the room, "A few years back we investigated an explosion in a betting shop in Coral Gables, turns out that the owner was under the thumb of the Mala Noche and had fallen behind on his protection payments. When the owner didn't pay up they decided to use more drastic measures to get their point across."

"You think this is the work of the Mala Noche?" her face registered the surprise that was evident in her voice.

"Not necessarily, the guy they used to make the bomb was a freelance. A gun for hire, so to speak. When we arrested him he was careful not to mention the Mala Noche or who had paid him to make the device. He got four years and survived in prison until his release because he kept his mouth shut."

"So you think he's out now?"

Hutchings nodded his head as he brought up a mug shot of the suspect, "It says here that he was released six months ago, he's on probation and living in a halfway house in Biscayne Boulevard. Judging by the makeup of that bomb I'm pretty sure that this is the guy you're looking for, hopefully the fingerprint will confirm it."

Calleigh took a closer look at the information on the computer screen and read through. Juan Fuentes was a career criminal having been in and out of prison since he'd turned eighteen. His list of highlights included stretches for assault and battery, fraud and wilful damage of property as well as several convictions for the use of explosive devices that had caused significant damage to a number of properties. His vital statistics listed him as being 38 years old, 6'2" and 225lbs with a number of distinctive tattoos on his arms and chest. The photo didn't do him justice, he looked like a brainless thug but Calleigh was aware that it took more than brawn to be able to make a bomb; it took intelligence and a certain amount of finesse.

Pulling out her cell phone she dialled Frank Tripp's number, he answered on the second ring. "What's up, Calleigh?"

"I've got a name for you, Frank. I need you to run down a guy called Juan Fuentes." She gave him the address listed on his probation order.

"Sure thing, I'll let you know when we've brought him in."

She placed her phone back in her pocket and noticed Hutchings looking at her curiously, "What's wrong?" she asked.

He shook his head slightly as if trying to clear it, "Was that Frank Tripp you were speaking to?"

Not understanding where this line of questioning was heading she looked at him warily, "Yes, what of it?"

Hutchings switched off the computer screen and returned to looking at the bomb fragments, trying to distract himself. "Maybe it would be best if you left my name out of any discussions about the bomb with him."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because….ah….he wasn't best pleased with me the last time I saw him."

* * *

**Flashback. Miami 1998: **

Simon Hutchings laid on his hospital bed feeling bored, he'd been cooped up for the last three days with nothing to do but keep as still as possible. He'd been a loyal student of the art of explosive devices and had thought that he knew all there was to know about them but his knowledge paled into comparison when he found out first-hand the power such a small and innocuous bundle of wires, plastic and metal could create. The cuts and bruises that covered most parts of his body were healing but nothing could compare with the aching he felt deep within his bones.

The ringing in his ears was beginning to fade along with the pounding sensation in his head; he'd been buoyed yesterday by the visit of his wife, Tanya who was due to give birth in a matter of weeks. With a sigh he placed down the magazine he had been reading and gingerly turned his head to the left, his eyes fell onto the man laying in the next bed, the man who had saved his life.

Horatio had placed himself in harm's way so that he could have a better chance of surviving and Simon would forever be in the other man's debt for the risk that he'd taken for him. He thanked every deity that he could think of that the redhead had come through the explosion relatively unscathed. His colleague was still sporting a number of bandages on his arms and bare chest, Simon's eyes travelled down to the cast on Horatio's left leg and winced at the sight of it.

As if knowing that the other man was watching him Horatio croaked, "How're you doing over there, Hutchings?"

The gravelly voice of his colleague made him jump, "I didn't realise you were awake, how are you feeling?"

The redhead seemed to consider the question for a while before answering, "Like I got blown up," he replied sardonically. "How about you?"

"I'm fine, just bored. I'm hoping they'll let me go home tomorrow." He heard the door to the room open and saw the imposing figure of Frank Tripp standing in the doorway; the big Texan gave him a sour look before walking over to Horatio's bed and sitting down in the chair next to it.

"What the hell have you gone and done to yourself this time, pal?"

Horatio grimaced as he tried to move in the bed but halted his movements as wave of pain washed over him, "I'm fine, Frank. No need to worry about me."

Frank scoffed at his remark, "Yeah, you look just fine and dandy. I heard what happened at the courthouse." He shot Hutchings another dirty look before returning his attention back to the redhead, "You're an idiot, you know that?"

"Why, Frank, I didn't know you cared," he teased as he bit his lip as pain cascaded over him again.

"I'm serious, Horatio. What is it with you risking your life for other people all the time?"

His face took on a sober expression, "It's what I do, Frank. I have to."

"You gotta start taking better care of yourself; you have any idea how hard it is to break in a good partner these days?"

* * *

**Miami. Present day:**

"Detective Tripp wasn't exactly happy with me for nearly getting his friend killed." Simon's voice was soft and full of regret. "I still have no idea to this day why Horatio did it, I asked him a few times but he never gave me a straight answer."

"Because he's Horatio, it's the way he is."

Simon smiled sadly, "I remember the day I was released from hospital, our boss Al had come to give me a ride home. I'll never forget the look on Horatio's face when he spoke to Al that day.

* * *

**Flashback. Miami 1998:**

Simon sat on the edge of his hospital bed twiddling his thumbs as he waited for his boss and head of the bomb squad to come and give him a lift home. Dressed in a grey MDPD t-shirt and navy jogging bottoms he regarded the other inhabitant of the room carefully. He watched with some amusement as Horatio Caine tried and failed to peel the lid off of the pot of Jell-O on the table in front of him.

The redhead shot him a dirty look, "Why don't you give me a hand instead of sitting there and smirking?"

He laughed, "Got out of the wrong side of bed this morning, did we?" he teased as he walked over to his frustrated colleague.

"Well, no. Seeing as I can hardly move at the moment!"

Simon was taken aback by the unexpected show of anger from the other man, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. Are you in pain, should I get a doctor?" he hovered by the bed waiting for Horatio to tell him what to do.

The redhead took a deep breath to calm him but instantly regretted it as his ribs protested at the movement. "Hutchings," he began as he tried to get his breathing back under control, "I'm sorry."

He felt the apprehension clawing at him ease a little, "You wanna talk about it?"

Horatio closed his eyes and shook his head lightly, opening them quickly again when he heard the door open. His heart sank when he saw the kindly face of his friend and mentor, Al Humphries.

"Well aren't you two a sight for sore eyes!" Al walked over to Horatio's bed and sat down heavily in the chair, "How you feeling, son?"

A look of such pain crossed the redhead's face that Simon thought that he must have jolted one of his many injured areas as he tried to move up the bed. "I'll be fine thanks, Al."

The older man snorted as he looked up and down at the sorry-looking figure in the bed, "A lesser man would probably say that it's no more than you deserve for blatantly going against your superior's orders. I should write you up for what you did, you know."

Horatio had kept his head bowed as he allowed his boss to castigate him for his behaviour at the courthouse; Al would have been well within his rights to suspend him for what he had done. He nodded his head slightly and kept silent; bracing himself for the tongue lashing that was to come.

"It was one of the stupidest things that any of my men have ever done!" Al's voice rose as he spoke before finishing quietly, "It was also one of the bravest things I've ever seen. You're a far greater man than I'll ever be, Horatio Caine."

As Horatio's head shot up it occurred to Simon that this was the most emotion he had ever seen from his colleague. The redhead had such a look of surprise and then his face took on an expression of almost child-like happiness before the emotional barriers came back down and he returned to his calm and collected demeanour that everyone had been so used to seeing.

Horatio cleared his throat awkwardly and turned his attention back to Simon, "What are you still doing here, kid? Scram!" The smile on his colleague's face told him that the words were meant in jest, he smiled before shaking Horatio's hand and bidding him goodbye, promising to visit him again in a few days.


	62. Chapter 62

**I can't quite believe that I've hit 100,000 words already, thanks to everyone who has stuck by for the ride so far!**

**Miami. Present day:**

"I'm glad Horatio made it to lieutenant, he's a good man."

"The best," Calleigh added with a smile. "Have you kept in contact with him over the years?"

Simon shook his head sadly, "I wish I'd made more of an effort after he transferred out, but I'm sure you know what he's like. Never was much of a 'hearts and flowers' kind of guy at the best of times." He smiled as Calleigh nodded her head in agreement, "Don't get me wrong, he was a great guy to have on the squad but he always seemed a bit distant. Al was the only guy who he let get close to him, he pretty much kept everyone else at arm's length." Simon shook his head ruefully, "I remember his first day back after the explosion, Al had convinced him to go with him to a bar for a celebratory drink. We'd decided to throw him a little 'welcome back' party, it was meant to be a happy occasion but the thing I remember the most about that day was how sad his eyes were."

* * *

**Flashback. Miami 1998:**

It had been just over eight weeks since the explosion at the federal courthouse; eight weeks of being laid up and cooped up had almost driven him to the point of insanity. The department medical couldn't have come soon enough and he was both ecstatic and relieved that he'd been given the all-clear to return to active duty.

He'd returned to the department and was greeted with smiles and pats on the backs from his colleagues which although were well-meaning only served to remind him of another time in his past. He'd been successful so far in blocking the memories of his time in New York from his mind but re-entering the Miami Dade Police Department had brought them floating back to the surface.

Al had decided to break him back in gently and so most of his first shift back consisted of lab work, analysing fragments from a recent car bombing incident. It wasn't until he had returned to duty that he realised how much he missed it, even the simple pleasure of just being in the lab made him feel more at peace with himself. The injuries that he had suffered in the explosion had only served to give him more time to dwell on the past that he had tried so hard to outrun. During the last year he had thrown himself into his work in the bomb squad, devoting his spare hours to studying and developing his skills in the lab. He found it an ideal way to keep his mind occupied and away from the memories that still haunted him.

It made him laugh to think how much he had changed since those dark days in New York, so much so that he doubted the people he knew back then would recognise him now. The perfectly coiffed hair and sharp suits were ideal camouflage to hide the real man lurking underneath. Agent Collins had given him the identity of Horatio Caine and wittingly or not he had thrown himself into his new guise knowing that he had no other choice if he and everyone else were to survive.

"Hey, you ready, Horatio?"

Al's voice took him by surprise and made him jump involuntarily, he hastily pulled out his suit jacket and shrugged it on, slamming the door shut as he followed his boss out of the locker room.

He groaned when Al pulled his car up outside the dingy, run-down bar just outside of the Glades. Looking at the outside of the building gave Horatio a bad feeling and reminded him somewhat of a scene from a horror film. "When you said a quiet drink this isn't really what I thought you had in mind, Al."

The other man slapped him on the shoulder, "Now, Horatio, don't be a big girl's blouse. I'll protect you if anyone gets funny with you." Al snorted as he saw the look of uncertainty on his young colleague's face, "If you can survive being blown up then I'm sure you can survive having a drink with me in there," pointing at the ramshackle and tatty looking watering hole.

He followed Al into the bar begrudgingly as he squinted in the darkness, it wasn't until he got closer to the bar that he realised how many faces he recognised. Grouped in a corner were the rest of the bomb squad along with various other colleagues from the department that he'd met along the way since he'd arrived in Miami.

He flushed a deep crimson as the group turned to face him and started clapping and cheering him, now more than ever he wished the earth would open up and swallow him whole. Turning to Al he asked, "What happened to a quiet little drink?"

"You didn't think you could just sneak back in and pretend like nothing happened, did you?"

He squirmed as he shifted his weight from one foot to another, keeping his gaze directed at something in the far corner of the room. "I was rather hoping I could. While I appreciate the gesture I don't think all of this fuss is really necessary."

"Sure it is, you're a hero."

His eyes shot back to Al's, "I'm not. I'm anything but," he responded emphatically.

He felt Al's arm fall heavily across his shoulders, "Shut up and start drinking, kid. What's your poison?"

"Club soda, thanks," he replied as he surveyed the room, "I don't drink," he added at the astonished look that Al gave him.

Any hopes he had of making a hasty retreat were dashed when Al asked for quiet in the bar, as the patrons lowered their glasses and stopped what they were doing Horatio suddenly felt a room full of eyes centred on him. "Thanks everyone for coming this evening to celebrate Horatio's return to active duty." Al paused as a loud cheer and ripple of applause went through the room, "It's not the only reason I asked you to come here, the Captain and I have been talking over the last few weeks and we've come to a decision." Silence fell over the room as Al pulled a small leather box from his suit jacket pocket and handed it to Horatio, "I'd like you all to give a big round of applause to Sargent Horatio Caine!"

He opened the box with shaky hands to find a gold Sargent's shield inside; he touched the raised surface almost reverently. He looked up and found everyone still staring at him, he felt his mouth go dry with fear as closed the box again and looked at his friend and mentor. "This is too much, I don't deserve this," he said as he tried to hand the box back to Al.

The older man slapped him on the shoulder once more, "Sure you do, kid, you've earned it."

It should have been a moment of such joy, he'd imagined this day since he was a little boy. He'd always wanted to be a detective but something inside of him yearned to go further than that, not so far that he'd be forced to ride a desk for the rest of his career but enough to be able to have influence and make a real difference to lives of the people he served. He wanted to be happy so badly that it hurt but all he could think of was that Andy and his colleagues from the 15th Precinct should have been here to share it with him. He'd left behind a terrible legacy in New York, a trail of hurt and destruction so severe that even if he spent every day for the rest of his life apologising to the people he hurt it would never make what he had done right.

His face fell as a feeling complete misery washed over him, he should have felt happy that he'd made it to Sargent; he should have been celebrating with his colleagues who thought they knew him. How long would it be before they found out that he was a fake and that everything he'd ever told them about himself had been nothing but a lie?

* * *

**Present day. Miami:**

Simon Hutchings packed away his tools and took a look at his watch, "I better get going, I have a meeting downtown to get to. When you see Horatio give him my best will you, I really hope things turn out ok. If you need anything else just let me know, I'll be happy to help." He gave Calleigh a boyish smile as he left the room that reminded her so much of the man she loved.

* * *

"John, wait!" Andy called out as he trundled as fast as his stocky build and short legs would carry him. He'd made it as far as the hallway between the kitchen and lounge when he felt the presence of cold steel pressed against his neck, gulping deeply, he heard the hammer being cocked.


	63. Chapter 63

"Stay where you are, chubby." A cold voice spoke from behind him, "Make one move and they'll be scraping your brain off the ceiling, understand?"

"Who are you?" Andy asked as he tried to keep his voice level and his shaking hands still.

"We've come to collect on an old debt, where's Red?"

He knew he had to stall for time, he hoped that John had heard the voices and decided to make a run for it. "He's not here."

Andy felt the cold metal dig deeper into the back of his neck, "Don't lie to me, old man!" He felt himself being shoved towards the kitchen as a large hand gripped his shoulder tightly. "Move!" the voice commanded.

Stumbling as he turned around he took a good look at his assailant who still had a gun pointed at his head. He didn't recognise the man's face but there was something remarkably familiar about him, he'd seen those cold grey eyes before. Realisation dawned on him, "You're a Malucci kid, aren't you?"

Andy's question was rewarded with another shove, this time to his chest. "Shut your mouth and show me where he is."

His eyes followed the young man's movements, tall and lithe he had the grace of an athlete, so light on his feet that Andy had failed to hear him creeping up behind him. The man was youthful; the sneer that marred his face belied his handsome features. He watched as the man's eyes fell upon a framed photo on the counter, the assailant grabbed it and ripped the picture out roughly before shoving it into his trouser pocket. Andy saw the evil smirk that crossed the younger man's face and knew no good would come of the situation he'd found himself in.

He inwardly cursed himself for not paying more attention to his surroundings; maybe if he'd spent a little less time reminiscing and making John feel bad he would have heard the man currently holding him hostage creeping up on him. "In here, boss!" he heard another voice call.

Grabbed painfully by the shoulder once more he was pushed into the lounge where his eyes met with John's, "It's going to be ok, we'll get out of this," he tried to reassure the younger man. He knew it was unlikely; the two of them were surrounded by a room full of men who were all brandishing weapons, it occurred to him then that neither of them would likely get out of this alive.

Andy watched as John was pulled roughly to his feet by his t-shirt, "Get up, Red. You're coming with us."

He watched in horror as the younger man did as he was told. "John, don't do this!"

The achingly blue eyes of his former partner regarded him sadly; he hung his head as he spoke. "I'll do anything you want, just don't hurt Andy. Please."

He saw one of the men throw a length of thick rope at John, "Tie him up, nice and tight."

"John, you don't have to do this. Please!" he begged as John walked towards him. He looked into his former partner's face as he felt his hands being tied in front of him tightly. Even though they were standing so close he strained to hear what the other man was saying.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," John whispered over and over as he tightened the knots on Andy's wrists, "Please forgive me."

"Now gag him, nice and tight now, Red."

Andy shook his head and tried to push him away, "John, please," he pleaded as he saw the white rag coming closer to his face. As he felt the fabric tighten around his jaw he looked up into the crystal blue eyes of the man he had grown to love as a son. When he spoke nothing came out except a muffled growl but he knew he had to try to make him see reason.

He watched in horror as one of the men secured a cable tie around John's wrists and pulled viciously, making his former partner wince and stumble slightly before having a black hood thrown over his head. He screamed and pulled on his bindings as hard as he could but to no avail, he watched with tears streaming from his eyes as he saw John being pushed roughly out of the room before his vision too suddenly went black.

* * *

Calleigh stormed down the corridors of the crime lab as she attempted to blow off a little steam, her meeting with Captain Hernandez had not gone well. Her superior was an arrogant jackass at the best of times and she wondered how Horatio had tolerated the infuriating man for so long. The captain had been cold and uncaring of Horatio's current plight and had demanded that his case be put on the backburner, he had told her that too much time and too many resources had already been wasted on trying to track down the elusive Malucci's. She had received short shrift when she argued that the explosion outside the department was linked to the crime syndicate that were targeting the lieutenant. "Find some evidence to prove it," the Captain had growled.

"Calleigh, have you got a minute?" Ryan's voice called from down the hall as he poked his head out into the corridor.

"What is it, Ryan?"

Her colleague winced at her tone and visibly shrank a little back into the lab he was inhabiting, "I can call Eric if this is a bad time?" he offered uncertainly.

Readjusting the folders in her arms she used her free hand to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "No it's ok, what have you got?" She asked as she walked towards the room he was in.

"I ran those prints that the bomb tech gave us, I found a match to a Juan Fuentes. I hear Frank's tracking him down and bringing him in, I thought you'd want to know it's a match before he gets brought in for questioning."

She saw the worried look Ryan was giving her and took a deep breath before answering him, "Thanks, Ryan. Good job."

He gave her a small smile as he returned his attention to his work. Pulling her phone out of her pocket she decided to ring Andy to update him on the news. She frowned as the call rolled over to voicemail, she hung up and tried again and was greeted with the same response. Worry began to claw at her insides; instinctively she rang her house phone but got no answer there either. Worry soon gave way to fear as she realised something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

Bound and gagged Andy lay prostrate on the floor of Calleigh's lounge, a small rivulet of blood running from the cut on his head dripped slowly onto the hardwood flooring and pooled beneath his chin. The vibrating sensation in his trouser pocket and the shrill ringing of the landline phone that sat in the corner of the room failed to rouse a response from him as he lay on the floor, unmoving.

* * *

He felt himself being pushed forwards, stumbling at unseen objects beneath his feet. He grimaced as he felt the heat from the midday sun beat down upon him as he was guided from the house. Walking only a few paces before his legs hit the back of a van, he fell onto his side as he was shoved roughly into the vehicle, the odours of gasoline and rusted metal assaulted his senses. He felt the floor dip as he heard the footsteps of his captors climb in with him, wincing as they hauled him roughly further into the vehicle and slammed the doors shut. The vehicle sped off at such a speed that the unexpected motion took him by surprise; he felt the side of his head hit the metal flooring and audibly groaned at the pain that shot through it.

He was rewarded for his movements by a swift kick in the stomach, "Shut it, Red," snarled a voice above him. Biting his lip he tried to suppress the groan as pain radiated across his abdomen, he gasped quietly as he tried to regain his breath. As he lay panting on the floor he knew his past had come back to haunt him, but talk some comfort from the fact that at least they had targeted him and not the people he cared about. He would take what they gave him willingly if it meant that they would survive.


	64. Chapter 64

Panic seized Calleigh as she ran through the halls of the crime lab, so fixated on getting to her vehicle and rushing back to her house she failed to see the tall and bulky frame of Eric walking towards her. He held his hands out before she could barrel into him, "Hey, where's the fire?" he asked jokingly.

Neither having the time nor being in the mood to play games she tried to push past her colleague, "I haven't…I need…I need to go, Eric."

Sensing her rising panic he gripped onto her arms and held her in front of him, "What is it? What's happened?"

Her eyes darted around the corridor as she searched for the nearest exit, "I tried to ring Andy, he didn't answer," she said distractedly as way of explanation.

"Maybe he and Horatio are talking about something deep," he suggested.

Calleigh shook her head and tried to pull out of Eric's strong grip, "I tried the house phone too, and no one answered. Something's wrong, Eric, I can feel it."

He considered her words carefully; they had all been on high alert since the first attempt on Horatio's life in the hospital. He worried that Calleigh was allowing her personal feelings for their boss to cloud her professional judgement, was there a simple explanation or was she just overreacting? He knew Calleigh was not prone to hysterical outbursts of panic; whatever had put her on edge at least merited investigating. "I'm coming with you," he told her as he checked that he was carrying his service weapon.

With sirens screaming Eric drove through the midday Miami traffic as fast as the engine of the Hummer would allow. Weaving in and out of the traffic, his driving precluded any finesse as he too began to feel a gnawing sensation of worry gripping at him. A glance in the rear view mirror told him that word had got out through dispatch as three patrol cars joined them on their breakneck journey to Calleigh's house.

Eric felt his heart sink as the Hummer skidded to a stop in the gravel driveway seeing the lifeless body of one of the officers assigned to protecting the house. He glanced at his passenger and was about to tell her to stay in the vehicle but it was already too late; Calleigh had jumped out and was running towards the house.

Gun drawn, he made his way up to the seemingly abandoned patrol cars. Further inspection showed the occupants had most likely been taken by surprise and had been shot execution-style with a bullet each to the head. Eric let his head hang and sent up a small prayer to the Heavens, four more deaths to be laid at the door of the Malucci organisation. He gave orders to the officers that had just arrived to cordon off the scene and call for the M.E to attend before making his way into the house.

Taking no risks, Calleigh entered her home quietly and with her gun drawn, clearing each room in turn. As she entered the kitchen her eyes fell on the photo frame that was lying broken on the floor, smashed into pieces with the picture missing. It eased her frantic mind a little to see no evidence of blood in the room and gave her hope that both Andy and Horatio were still alive.

As she entered the hallway she became startled by the noise of the front door opening, instinctively she raised her weapon and took aim, fearing a would-be attacker but lowered it as she saw Eric standing in front of her. "I've checked the kitchen and hallway; we need to clear the lounge. You ready?" Eric nodded his head in agreement as they both raised their weapons and entered the room at the same time.

Glancing around the room she saw no signs of a struggle or violence until her eyes fell on the heavy-set body of Andy lying behind the sofa. "Eric, over here!" she called as she re-holstered her weapon and dropped to her knees.

The CSI in her would later admonish her for not following protocol at a crime scene as she disregarded her training and pulled off the white fabric gagging the unconscious man. Eric joined her seconds later and placed a hand to Andy's neck.

"He's alive, looks like he took a blow to the head" Eric pointed to the trail of blood that had run down the other man's face. He shook the shoulder of the unconscious man, "Andy, can you hear me?"

He was greeted with a weak moan in response, slowly Andy's eyes opened as he tried to focus. His mouth felt dry as he licked his lips and swallowed several times before trying to speak, the vile taste of gasoline and grease still present in his mouth. After a few moments he seemed to realise that Calleigh and Eric were with him, the pounding of his head was in rhythm with that of his heart as he recalled what had happened. Trying to sit up and failing he looked at the two people in front of him, "John…..they have him," he said as he pulled on the ropes around his wrists. "Get these damn things off me!" he shouted.

Ignoring the older man's aggressive outburst Eric did as he was asked and then helped the injured man to sit with his back against the couch. "What happened, where did they take Horatio?"

Lifting a hand to the cut on his head, Andy answered, "They took me by surprise, I had no idea they had got in until it was too late." He shook his head and winced before looking into Calleigh's emerald eyes, "We were surrounded, they told him to tie me up. They bound him and then shoved him out of the room with a bag on his head. That's the last thing I remember."

Eric gave the other man's shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he saw a paramedic enter the room, "It wasn't your fault, we'll find him." He moved out of the way and let the medics do their job.

Calleigh however, was not so forgiving. "Are you telling me that Horatio just did as they asked and allowed them to take him?"

Andy batted away the hands that were trying to tend to him, "Look, they had a gun to my head. John said he would go with them willingly, I tried to stop him but he wouldn't listen!"

Her piercing stare held him frozen in place, "They took him alive?"

"As far as I know, yeah. I'm sorry."

Calleigh felt her righteous anger fade as she looked at the distraught look on Andy's face and knew that there was nothing he could have done to prevent the attack. "We'll find him," she said as she holstered her gun and left the room.

* * *

The detective in him told him to pay close attention to the sounds of what was going on around him, listening closely he could hear three distinctive male voices, all with strong New York accents. His heart sank, if there was any doubt before it was now painfully obvious that his assailants were none other than the Malucci's. Bound and blinded by the hood over his head he had no idea how much time had passed since he'd been bundled into the back of the van or where they might be taking him.

Pulling on the plastic cable tie that held his hands out in front of him proved futile, the more he tried to move his arms the sharper the pain in his wrists became and he was sure he could feel the warm trickle of blood slowly course its way down one of his arms. Another swift kick to his stomach knocked the wind out of his lungs forcefully, groaning he held his arms as close to his body as his bindings would allow protecting the injured area.

"You move when we say you can move, pig," he heard the voice above him sneer.

As he was attempting to draw breath and gulp in much-needed oxygen he heard the voice of another man call from further away, "That's enough, Sal. We need him in one piece. For now."

"Yes, boss," Horatio's tormentor answered regretfully, admonishing himself for angering Gianni Malucci.

After travelling over a distinctly rough patch of terrain the van finally came to a halt with a screech. Light filtered through the black cloth of the hood as the doors to the vehicle were opened and Horatio felt the suspension lighten as his captors jumped out. He didn't have to wait too long before he felt two sets of hands grab at his ankles and pull him roughly from the van. With his feet being held and his wrists bound he found himself unable to stop himself from tumbling to the dry and dusty ground as his the men holding him hostage laughed at his predicament.

The earth felt scorching hot as his bare arms made contact with the ground, the midday sun of Miami a harsh and unforgiving mistress as his skin registered the heat and humidity. Dust had found its way inside the hood over his head and he felt its presence on his lips and in his mouth, he let out a dry cough as he lay on the ground.

Suddenly he felt hands gripping his arms and hauling him into a standing position; it was then that he felt the cold steel muzzle of a gun shoved into the small of his back. "Walk," a gravelly voice from behind him commanded. Knowing that he was completely outnumbered he did as he was told as he felt himself being pushed along. He almost tripped over the raised step as they reached the building before regaining his balance; he knew he had been taken inside as he felt a distinct change in temperature, the hot and sticky air replaced by a cool and dank atmosphere.

He walked for what seemed like an eternity, guided by the rough hands of his captors until he heard a door creak open. A hand pushed him violently from behind, the unexpected movement caught him by surprise as he lost his balance and fell to the ground only to hear the door slam shut and lock behind him.


	65. Chapter 65

Calleigh stood outside the house that had now been turned into a crime scene, she brushed the errant locks of brilliant blonde hair that had fallen over her face, still in a daze from the horrific discovery she and Eric had just bore witness to.

She had bolted from the house, the need for fresh air all-consuming. The feel of the scorching Miami sun did nothing to soothe her worried mind, Horatio had been taken and she had no idea where. The Malucci's had at least a thirty minute head-start on them, if not more, her mind began to run through scenarios of where they could have gone within that time. Putting a BOLO out would be futile, they had no idea what kind of vehicle had been used in the abduction, Walter had run the plates on the blue SUV that had followed her to the lab a few days previously and it had come up registered as stolen and had yet to be found. The criminologist in her knew it had likely been abandoned and torched by now, the Malucci's were smart and resourceful and knew better than to use the same vehicle more than once.

"Hey, Calleigh. We got here as soon as we could, what do you need us to do?"

Ryan's soft voice shook her from her reverie as he looked at her with concern, "You ok?"

Standing with her hands on her hips, badge and gun on full display unconsciously mimicking the image of their leader, Calleigh finally answered, "Eric's inside, he's started processing the house. We…uh…..we didn't observe protocol when we went in, some of the evidence might be compromised."

Ryan picked up his case and motioned for Walter to follow him into the house, "We've got this covered if you want to head back to the lab," he suggested as he walked past her.

Calleigh nodded her thanks and strode over to the M.E who was crouching down next to one of the deceased officers. Tom Loman looked up and gave her a tight smile, "Just doing a cursory examination, Miss Duquesne," he said by way of explanation. "Cause of death on all four officers appears the same, single gunshot wound to the head." He saw her flinch slightly at his clinical assessment of the bodies lying in her driveway, "Death was pretty much instantaneous, none of them suffered. I'm just waiting on transport to take the bodies back to the morgue."

She took a moment to clear her throat and regain her composure, "See to it that they get treated with respect, Tom."

His first reaction was to be affronted by her remark, Tom Loman took his job as Chief Medical Examiner of the Miami Dade Police Department very seriously and had always thought that he had gone about his work in a courteous and professional manner; he would not take kindly to someone sullying his good name. He gazed up at Calleigh intending to shoot back an acerbic retort until the meaning of her words sank in. Although he did not understand it, he was aware of the strong bond between police officers, maybe it had something to do with the fact that these people risked their lives on an almost daily basis to protect the citizens of the great city of Miami. He imagined that the relationships between officers were built on a high level of trust and respect and that for all intents and purposes they were all brothers and sisters-in-arms.

Tom knew that it was all too easy to become jaded by the job that he was asked to do, to see dead bodies day in and day out became second nature to him and as time rolled by he found himself becoming more detached from the victims that ended up on his table. Years of seeing what the worst of humanity was capable of had hardened his emotional responses; it was the only way that he had survived so long in his profession. To pity or to grieve for those unlucky enough to find themselves a resident in his morgue would serve no purpose to the victim, their family or the officers working the case and attempting to bring justice to those left behind. His job was to view the evidence of the autopsies he carried out in a clinical and scientific manner, to provide the people working the case with the information they needed to catch the perpetrator and bring them to justice.

Tom knew what Calleigh had meant, she had asked him to treat the fallen officers as people and not merely case numbers, he nodded his head in agreement and resumed his inspection of the body at his feet.

Calleigh looked up and saw Frank Tripp bustling towards her, "I came straight from the station, we have Fuentes back there, we've put him on ice for the moment."

She nodded her head although her thoughts were elsewhere which didn't escape the notice of the gruff Texan. "Uniforms are canvassing the area for witnesses; if anything comes up I'll let you know. Are you ok, Calleigh?"

_What a stupid question, _she thought; _of course I'm not ok! _She bit her tongue and resumed her business-like demeanour; to fall apart now would not do Horatio any good. "I have a lot on my mind, Frank. I'm going to head back to the lab and co-ordinate things from there, I'd like you to sit in on the interview with Fuentes if you don't mind."

"Sure thing, Cal. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than rattling that ape's cage. I'll organise the troops here and meet you back at the station within the hour."

* * *

Eric stood in the corner of the lounge as he watched his colleagues work, Ryan was studiously taking photos of the crime scene whilst sending furtive glances the Cuban's way. Walter Simmons had hunched down and was in the process of bagging the rope and fabric used to bind Andy, intent on taking it back to the lab for further analysis. The two of them treated the scene as if they would any other, observing protocol by photographing and document every detail before disturbing the scene, something he and Calleigh had failed to do. Their concern for the welfare of Horatio and his former partner overrode their basic training as they frantically searched for the men, what if they had destroyed or compromised a piece of evidence that would lead them to the whereabouts of Horatio? His heart sank when he thought of his brother-in-law, what if their hasty actions meant they wouldn't find him until it was too late?

Walter's voice brought him back to the present, "We found a broken photo frame in the kitchen, looks like it's been smashed and the photo removed." The bulky black man lifted up the sealed evidence bags to show his colleague.

Eric couldn't prevent the gasp that escaped his mouth as he instantly recognised the wooden frame; he'd seen it a hundred times or more. It was the frame that took pride of place on Horatio's desk, the only decorative piece in what was a spartanly furnished office. Walter looked at him with some concern but he shrugged it off, "Get all of this stuff back to the lab ASAP and get it analysed. This takes top priority, you find anything you let me or Calleigh know, understand?"

Eric pulled the Hummer up in the MDPD parking lot and killed the engine; he stole a glance at Calleigh who had said nothing for the entirety of the journey. He spoke softly, trying to gently nudge her from her daydream, "We're back."

She nodded tightly in response and bit her lower lip as she left the vehicle whilst Eric walked round to meet her. She looked into Eric's eyes and saw the same level of fear that must have been reflected in her own. Suddenly she felt herself being pulled towards him and engulfed in a fierce hug, Eric clung on to her as if the end of the world were imminent, "Let it out, Calleigh," he commanded as he ran soothing hands up and down her back.

His embrace felt good and brought back memories of a time when they were more than friends, time had dampened the passion between them but the strong bond of love and affection still remained. It would have been so easy, so simple to cling to him and cry for Horatio, it would provide a temporary relief but would do nothing to lessen the severity of the situation that faced them. She pulled herself away and steeled her courage, "Now's not the time, Eric. We have to find him," she said with much more conviction than she felt.

Calleigh had resumed the mask of professionalism by the time they made it back to their department with Eric following a few paces behind. He chewed on his bottom lip as he watched her march towards Horatio's office only to be stopped by the receptionist.

"Officer Duquesne, there's a visitor here for Lieutenant Caine. I wasn't sure what to say, they're waiting in his office for you," the receptionist said nervously, wary of the fierce look on the normally friendly visage of the department's ballistics expert.

She found her thoughts running wild as she beckoned Eric to follow her, her senses on high alert. Who had come to visit Horatio and what did they want? She knew Mandy was smart enough not to let a complete stranger enter the department, what if it was Agent Collins coming to gloat?

Eric nodded at her as they stood outside Horatio's office, the door was closed and the blinds were pulled down providing no clues as to who was inside. Taking a deep breath and a final look at her colleague she opened the door quickly, her eyes registering her shock at the room's current inhabitant.


	66. Chapter 66

"Kyle, what are you doing here?"

The young man got up quickly from the chair in which he had been seated in, "Calleigh, I came here to see Dad, where is he?"

The two CSIs entered the room as Eric closed the door behind them, "Was he expecting you back? He never mentioned anything to us about it."

"I talked to him on Skype a couple of weeks ago, my unit weren't due to return home until next month but we had a change of orders, I thought I'd surprise Dad. Where is he?"

Calleigh regarded the young man in front of her, dressed in his army uniform with his hair unkempt he looked like he had literally just stepped off the plane. Although his eyes appeared tired the sparkling blue orbs were unmistakably those of his father.

Kyle could sense the unease in his father's colleagues and a sense of fear began to grow that everything was not as it should have been. He stood to his full height and placed his hands on his hips in a pale imitation of his father, "What aren't you telling me?"

She opened her mouth to speak before Eric interjected, "Kyle, I think you better sit down."

* * *

He had no idea how long he had been laying on the cold, damp floor but he could feel the coolness of it begin to sink into his skin. He had tried and failed to shake the hood from his head, stopping after only a few minutes of trying as the repetitive movements caused a sharp pain to lance through his skull. He had spent more time trying to loosen the bindings on his wrists but had given up on that too at the stinging pain it caused and so he lay still and quiet on the dirty floor.

The talk with Andy that morning had exhausted him, the negative emotions it had conjured had ate away at what little energy he had been able to muster when he rose that morning. Escaping would be futile; he could barely walk a few feet on his own let alone fight off a gang of criminals. He realised then that Calleigh was right, and as much as it pained him to admit it he would need her and her team's help to get him out of this.

_No one's coming, old man. You're on your own, just like always. _He didn't bother to argue with the voice in his head, he knew it was right. From what he had been told by those around him he had brought this whole sorry mess on himself and there would be no escaping whatever justice the Malucci's decided was fit for his crimes against them. A cowardly part of him prayed that it would be a quick and merciful death but after hearing how he had betrayed the crime syndicate he knew their retribution would not be swift, they intended to make him suffer before they ended his life.

And so he lay on the floor for what seemed like hours, in the darkness time had lost all meaning. The room in which he was being held prisoner had no windows and he had no idea whether it was night or day, he idly wondered if anyone even knew he was missing, or cared for that matter. Maybe allowing the Malucci's to settle their score against him would be best for all concerned, since he had woken all he had done was bring pain and suffering to those around him, the very people he had sworn to protect. He had brought misery into the life of his sweet angel, Calleigh, he could see the emotional and physical toll it was taking on her and decided that it would be for the best if he left her life for good.

Time passed slowly until he heard the door being unlocked, scrambling to the other end of the room in an ungainly fashion he attempted to pull himself up against the wall in the hopes that it would afford even just a little protection instead of being jumped on by surprise. Through the fabric of the hood he could make out a light source coming from outside the door and winced as his eyes adjusted to the change. He heard rather than saw the pair of heavy boots making their way towards him and held his arms protectively over his abdomen should another vicious kick be sent his way.

"Get up," the voice commanded as the black-booted man stood mere inches from him. Being denied the sense of sight he tried to hone his other senses in order to gleam some sort of idea as to who his visitor might be. The voice was deep but with a decidedly nasal twang and the accent was unmistakably that of a Brooklyn native.

He knew why they were keeping the hood on his head, sensory deprivation had been used as proven torture technique designed to keep the subject disorientated and isolated from the world around them. The loss of one or more of the senses could have a damaging effect and he knew his captors wanted him to suffer before they put an end to his life.

He heard the stranger above him huff heavily and then grab him painfully by both forearms pulling him into a standing position. He felt a wave of dizziness come over him as he stood in an upright position for the first time in what seemed like days, he swallowed deeply and tried to resist the urge to vomit over his companion's shoes as to do so would likely result in another swift hit to the stomach.

Stumbling and tripping as a heavy hand gripped tightly onto his right shoulder he walked as best he could as he was led out of the room. He felt as if he were being taken round and round in circles as his path veered from the right and then back to the left again, finally the hand that was painfully grabbing his shoulder released and he found himself pushed into another room, one that was well lit. Again he heard footsteps coming towards him but could not make out the image of his captor, he stumbled again as he was pulled by the front of his t-shirt and forcibly pushed down into a chair. He heard the ties around his wrists being cut open but did not have time to move them before he felt his arms being pulled viciously behind his back and secured tightly to the chair. Suddenly the harsh lighting of the room assaulted his eyes as the hood was pulled from his head, his pupils dilating so suddenly it hurt as he tried to focus his gaze on something, anything.

The man standing in front of him gave his cheek a light tap as he crouched down to his eye level, "Hello, Detective Kelly. You're a hard man to track down aren't you?" the cold voice mocked.

He squinted as his vision began to return to normal and he took a good look at the person in front of him, he knew he'd seen those cold, grey eyes somewhere before but couldn't place them no matter how hard he tried. It was only when he saw the man sneer that he recalled where he had seen those cruel eyes before. _Benny Malucci._

* * *

Kyle sat silently, leaning heavily against the desk in his father's office, struggling to comprehend what he had just been told. Shock had caused his mouth to gape open and closed several times before he tried to speak. "Where is he?" was about the only coherent sentence he could form.

Eric shifted his weight awkwardly from one foot to another, "They ambushed the house and took him. We're trying to track them down now."

Kyle shot up from the chair and brought himself face to face with the bulky Cuban. "You're trying, _you're trying?! _You need to do better than that, get your asses out there and find him!" he shouted.

Sensing the high level of tension between the two men Calleigh interjected in an attempt to calm their rising tempers. "Kyle, we're doing everything we can to find him. We'll work round the clock until we bring him home, I promise."

He stood there breathing heavily, staring at Eric until he felt his anger start to recede. He turned his head towards Calleigh and she was shocked by the look of fear in the young man's cool blue eyes. "What if you're too late and they've killed him already?"

"Your father is strong, Kyle. He won't give up without a fight," she told him quietly, praying to herself that she was right.


	67. Chapter 67

**A/N: I thought it fair to warn you that those of a squeamish disposition might want to skip the first part of this chapter...**

"What's the matter, don't you recognise me, Detective Kelly?" Gianni sneered as leaned closer to the redhead's face. "You used to be pretty tight with my father, didn't you?"

He sat and said nothing as he met the younger man's gaze, not willing to break eye contact and give the thug the upper hand. Gianni laughed in his face and he fought hard not to wrinkle his nose in disgust at the fetid smell of the man's breath.

"What's the matter, cat got your tongue?"

Again he said nothing, never breaking eye contact with Gianni, goading the other man into a game of wills. A hand shot out with lightning speed and gripped his face painfully, "I seem to remember that you had no problem talking with the FBI eighteen years ago."

The hand tightened around his jaw faster but still he refused to look away, "You don't want to talk, Detective Kelly?" Gianni asked as he let go of his face with some force, "You know...they all talk in the end. One way or another."

The mobster began walking in circles around the chair that Horatio was bound to, "We've got a lot of catching up to do, don't you think?" He felt hot breath on his ear as Gianni bent down behind him, "I've waited a long time for this, I'm going to enjoy making you suffer."

He heard the cracking sound before his brain registered the pain in his left hand, biting on his bottom lip he sucked in a deep breath to keep from shouting out. "I was thinking that maybe I should break a bone for every year that my father spent in jail because of you, what do you think?"

He didn't have time to answer even if he wanted to as he heard the sickening sound of bone cracking as another finger on his hand gave way under the pressure his captor was exerting on it.

* * *

"I got your text, Natalia. What's up?"

Looking up from her computer screen she smiled at him softly, "I thought you'd want to know that I've run the epithelia's found on the rope used to tie Detective Sipowicz. "

Eric looked at her expectantly, "What did you find?"

Her gaze dropped back down to her station, "The only DNA that I found belongs to Horatio, I'm sorry."

He sat down heavily on a stool, "Figures as much, Andy said they made Horatio tie him up. They must have all been wearing gloves; did you get anything from the rag used to gag him?"

"The same, just DNA from Horatio and his friend. There were traces of motor oil and gasoline on it so I sent it to Travers to analyse." Natalia looked at Eric with glistening eyes, "I wish I had more for you, I'm sorry."

His next stop was to the trace lab where its resident analyst Michael Travers was standing hunched over a microscope; Eric cleared his throat to signal his presence. "Natalia tells me that you might have some information about the rag we found at the scene."

"Ah…..yes, Mr Delko," Travers answered in a distinctly British accent that was more than a little out of place in a city like Miami, his pale skin and penchant for eccentric clothing although clichéd served to reinforce his image as a typical English gentlemen. "The oil found on the cloth is indeed the type that is found in motor vehicles, the grade in question is most commonly used on heavy-duty diesel engines from the late nineties, usually in vans and other commercial vehicles. I also found traces of diesel fuel present which again would suggest the vehicle had a diesel engine, I'm not sure if that narrows down your search at all."

"It's more than we had an hour ago. Thanks, Travers."

_Zero from two, _he thought as he trudged down the corridor to the elevator, _we're getting nowhere fast. _He pressed the call button and waited for the doors of the elevator to open, shocked to find who was standing on the other side. "Andy, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in the hospital?"

"Forget it, kid. It was just a knock on the noggin, I'm fine," he groused, the bruising and swelling on his temple looked sore and angry.

"I thought you were going to head back to New York?"

"Change of plans, I'm not gonna hang around back home with my finger up my ass whilst my partner is out there at the mercy of some two-bit thugs."

Eric smiled at the coarse language the other man was employing to get his point across with about as much subtlety as a sledgehammer. It didn't escape his notice that Andy had referred to Horatio as his partner. "You're not a cop anymore though."

The withering look that the older man gave him gave him cause to shrink back slightly and it suddenly occurred to him how much it reminded him of Horatio. "Look, kid, I was out catching criminals before you were even a swimmer in your daddy's nut-sack. Just because I'm not on the job anymore doesn't mean I don't know how to work a case." Andy continued to stare at him, "Are you gonna stand there like a fairy or are you going to bring me up to date on what you've found?"

A smile spread out across Eric's face, the man before him had been the one to teach Horatio how to be a cop out on the tough streets of New York. Even from his short visit there he knew a cop needed to be street-smart to survive out there, he could just imagine an image of his brother-in-law as a wet behind the ears rookie being taken in hand by the gruff Andy Sipowicz. Horatio was a tough and ballsy cop and it was easy to see that the man before him had a larger influence on the redhead's life than any of them realised.

* * *

Calleigh sat across from Kyle and watched him as he paced the room liked a caged tiger, the young man had been pacing back and forth for the best part of an hour and his constant movement was starting to make her feel dizzy. "Come and sit down, Kyle. You must be exhausted," she suggested from her position on the couch.

He turned to look at her with those clear blue eyes that matched those of his father, "Sitting down is not going to help us find Dad. We should be out there doing something!" he replied as he gritted his teeth in frustration.

"Kyle, you need to leave this to us. You can't be part of this investigation, we…."

"The hell I can't! Those animals are out there somewhere doing God knows what to my father, I'm not just going to sit here and wait!"

"Kyle, "she began again trying to reason with him before he interrupted again.

"I know how to use a gun; I'm in the army for God's sake. When you track them down I'm coming with you, I'll make them pay for what they've done to him." He looked at Calleigh with steely eyes and spoke with conviction in his voice, "I can protect myself and I can help Dad too."

"You're not going to help him by getting yourself arrested for murder!"

"No, but it would make me feel a hell of a lot better! Isn't that what they say, 'an eye for an eye'?"

"Your father wouldn't want you to go down that road, especially not for him. When we get him back, and we _will _get him back he's going to need you to be there for him. How do you think he's going to feel if he finds out you've been arrested and you end up back in jail. Do you have any idea what he went through the last time that happened, what strings he had to pull to keep you safe in there?"

She knew that she was using Kyle's feelings towards his father against the boy but she was at a loss for what else to do, Kyle running off half-cocked would only make the situation worse. She could see the anger begin to fade in the young man's eyes as he sank back down into his father's leather chair. "Horatio needs you to be strong, now more than ever. We're not going to do him any good if we're all at each other's throats, ok?"

He sighed in defeat; his head hung low, "You're right, I know. This just wasn't the type of homecoming I had planned, you know." He looked around the office and took in the bare walls and lack of furnishings and it reminded him of his father, the strong and silent man he had grown to love. "Would you mind if I stayed in here for a while, it's the only thing I have of him at the moment." He looked slightly embarrassed at his admission as he glanced up at Calleigh and then back down to the desk.

"Sure, take all the time you need," she responded softly, closing the door behind her as she left.


	68. Chapter 68

**A/N: Again, just to warn you that this chapter features more torture scenes that some people might find upsetting.**

Sitting bound to the chair he bit on his bottom lip so hard that it began to bleed, feeling the warm fluid trickling down his chin he refused to give the other man an inch. He wasn't sure where his sudden stubborn streak had come from but something inside told him to face whatever was coming head on, he had spent far too much of his life running away. Now was the time to stand up and be counted.

He could feel the pain in his left hand throb in time with his heartbeat and screwed his eyes shut in an effort to block out the agony coursing through his broken fingers. Suddenly he blew air forcefully from his cheeks as Gianni squeezed the damaged hand tightly.

"Is it hurting yet, Detective Kelly?" he asked in a leering voice. "I've only done three fingers, you want me to continue?"

He was rewarded for his continued silence with another digit being forcefully broken, he breathed heavily through the pain as he felt the perspiration bead on his forehead.

"You know, I gotta hand it to you, you've got some balls for a cop. You've only gotta look at most before they start squealing like a pig." His captor laughed to himself at his inadvertent joke. "I'm thinking maybe we should try something else. What do you think?"

He kept his eyes focused on Gianni as the younger man walked across the room and bent down to pick something out of a black holdall lying on the ground. Horatio gulped deeply as he eyed the hunting knife as it was brought towards him but maintained his stony silence, he would not give Gianni the satisfaction of hearing him scream.

His captor admired the knife, turning it over in his hand as he watched the light reflect off of its polished surface. "You know, I've always wondered whether pigs bleed blue. You wanna find out?"

* * *

"Calleigh, I've got Fuentes in the interrogation room. You ready?"

"Sure, Frank. Give me a couple of minutes and I'll be right there," she responded, buying herself a few moments to get her scattered thoughts in order.

Taking a deep breath she strode into the room, her heels clicking on the floor as she walked. "Juan Fuentes?" she asked as she sat at the table and pulled the case file toward her, watching as Frank pulled the blinds down and locked the door.

"You asking, baby?" he leered as he leant across the table before Frank pushed him firmly back into his chair.

Refusing to rise to the bait she ignored his taunt as she pulled a number of crime scene photos from the explosion outside the department the day before. "Does this look familiar to you, Mr Fuentes?"

The bulky Hispanic man picked the pictures up and looked through them one by one, smiling appreciatively as he did so. "Whoever did this has got some skills, anyone get killed?" he asked smugly.

A hand shot out and grabbed him by the t-shirt, pulling him halfway across the table. "You killed two officers, Fuentes. You know what you're gonna get for that, the chair!"

Calleigh laid a hand on Frank's arm and motioned for him to let their suspect go which he did with enough force to send Fuentes stumbling off of his chair.

"Hey, that's police brutality!" he cried as he tried to pull himself back into a seated position as he adjusted the white wife-beater vest he was wearing.

"You're gonna get a lot worse than that if you don't tell us what we want to know, _pal. _You're in a building full of cops, you've just killed two of their own, no one's gonna come running when they hear you screaming like a little girl."

"We know you built the bomb, Juan. We want to know who you built it for."

He eyed Calleigh up appreciatively, "That's not me, and you can't prove it."

"The fingerprint we found on the fragments says we can. You have two options; talk or face the rest of your sorry life on death row."

Fuentes stared at the pair of them, "If I talk to you I'm as good as dead anyway." He ran a beefy hand through his short-cropped black hair as he considered his options, knowing he had few, if any, cards left to play. Finally he spoke, "I didn't know they were gonna use it on the cops. They asked for a bomb and I built it."

Calleigh leaned over the table, closer to her suspect. "Who asked you to build it, who paid you to make it?"

Fuentes shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he glanced around the interrogation room, suddenly nervous that someone might be listening in to their conversation.

"I'm going to ask you once more, Juan. Who paid you to make it?"

He rubbed his face and smoothed out his goatee, exhaling a long breath, "Some Guido's from out of town, never seen them before." He knew that they had him where they wanted him but it didn't mean he had to make it easy for them.

A little spark of hope began to ignite in Calleigh's heart, hoping that this might be their first solid lead in the case. "How did they find you?"

"A friend of a friend, probably." He saw the unimpressed look they were giving him and felt compelled to continue, "It's not like I list my services in the phonebook, I guess a previous client must have given them my number."

Having had enough of sitting back and staying quiet Frank cleared his throat and asked, "How much did they pay you to make the bomb?"

"Twenty G's. Cold, hard cash," he smiled as recollected his unexpected windfall of income and the enjoyment he'd got out of spending some of it.

"You better tell us where we can find the cash, punk."

Fuentes bristled at the burly detective's tone, "What's in it for me if I do?"

"Me not smacking you six ways from Sunday, how does that sound?" Frank pinned him with a steely glare, his cheeks reddening as his blood pressure and anger began to rise.

Fuentes paused as he weighed up his options again, heeding the burly detective's words from earlier. If the cop decided he wanted to give him a beating he knew no one would come running to help him. "I spent a couple of grand on hookers and coke, the rest of it is back at my crib."

"These 'Guido's' that you built the bomb for, did they have names?"

"Look, I had a business arrangement with them, I wasn't dating them. All I needed to know was what they wanted and how much they were gonna pay me for it."

"Could you describe what they looked like?" Calleigh asked.

"I only remember one of them, a lanky guy. Had these hard grey eyes, dude looked like he didn't smile much. Wasn't big on conversation either."

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, he talked with an accent."

"What kind of accent?"

"Real tough New York accent kinda made it hard to understand what the guy was saying half the time."

"How did you contact them?"

"I didn't. They contacted me, they'd text me the times and places to meet them."

"Could you describe the type of vehicle they used?"

"The first time it was a blue SUV, the next time a black Honda. That's all I know, honest."

Calleigh glanced at Frank and nodded before the pair of them rose from their chairs and left the room, leaving Fuentes to stew further before they would take him back to the holding cells. "What do you think?"

"I don't know, Cal. It's still not much to go on, I'll send some guys over to Fuentes place to toss it and see if we can find the money, maybe it'll lead us back to the Malucci's."

"Ok, take Walter too. I want to make sure we don't miss anything."

* * *

He had no idea how much time had passed since his captor had begun cutting him with the knife, in an effort to block out the pain he had begun to sing to himself silently, repeating the lyrics to the song he and Lori had their first dance to as a married couple. "_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey."_

The man torturing obviously knew what he was doing, cutting him deeply but not enough for him to bleed profusely, just enough for the stinging pain to register in his mind. The man had made short shrift of his t-shirt and had begun to cut intricate patterns into his chest and abdomen, he forced himself to keep repeating the words in his head as he felt his blood drip slowly down his chest and pool on his trousers as he sat bound to the metal chair. "_You'll never know dear, how much I love you, so please don't take my sunshine away."_

His continued silence seemed to increasingly aggravate his captor as he felt his jaw being squeezed once more. "You're starting to piss me off now, Kelly. Maybe I should up the stakes a little." The younger man raised the bloody knife so that it was level with his prisoner's face, "Maybe I should follow what says in the Bible, an eye for an eye. You're a good Catholic boy, what do you think?"

For the first time since his capture a real sense of fear flowed through the redhead as he felt the tip of the knife being pressed under his right eye. Panic overrode his rational thought processes as he did the only thing he could think of, leaning his head back he swung it forwards with as much force as he could muster straight into the face of his captor.

He heard Gianni scream as he stumbled backwards, clutching at his bleeding nose, "You bastard, you're going to pay for that!"

The words sounded like nothing more than a muffled mess as the ringing in his head threatened to overwhelm him and send him cascading towards nothingness. Wave after wave of dizziness washed over him as he grimaced at the lancing pain through his skull. The agony so all-consuming that he failed to hear his captor launch himself at him, the pain from the beating he was receiving was secondary to the throbbing in his head. Unable to withstand it any longer his mind retreated back into the welcoming darkness until slowly everything faded away to black.


	69. Chapter 69

Walter Simmons pulled up outside the shabby halfway house in Biscayne Boulevard that Juan Fuentes currently called 'home'. A run-down, three story house with a chain metal fence surrounding the burnt and patchy grass of the front lawn, it looked as mean and unwelcoming as Fuentes did. Spying Frank exiting his vehicle he did likewise and walked across the street to meet the balding man.

Frank lifted his suit jacket and reached for his service weapon, signalling for the two uniformed officers to do likewise. "Keep your eyes open, Simmons. The clientele here are hardly cop-friendly."

Walter smiled genially but said nothing, at six feet six and over 300 pounds he was more than sure of his ability to take care of himself and his fellow officers if needs be. He stood behind Frank, evidence kit in one hand and gun in the other as the Texan thumped on the door.

"MDPD, open up please."

Listening closely Walter could hear the sound of faint footsteps making their way closer to the door. Slowly the battered and weather-beaten wooden door opened, and stood behind it was a diminutive elderly lady. Standing no more than five feet tall, the wrinkled and grey-haired woman peered at the men standing on her front porch.

"What can I do you gentlemen for?" she asked as she squinted through her half-moon spectacles, wiping her hands on a dishcloth hanging from her apron.

Clearing his throat, "I'm Detective Tripp, MDPD. This is my colleague Walter Simmons; we've come to search the room of Juan Fuentes."

She narrowed her gaze at Frank, "Do you have a warrant, Detective Tripp?" Casting her eyes over the other men she returned her attention to him, "I run a home for ex-cons, this isn't my first rodeo, you know."

"Well…Mrs…." Frank paused, waiting for the elderly lady to provide her name.

"_Ms _Deakins," she replied, haughtily.

"Well, Ms Deakins, we have Fuentes in our custody as we speak and he's not going to be returning home anytime soon. Now I can go back and get a warrant from a judge but if I do that it won't just be for Juan's room, it'll be for every room in this building. I'm sure you've got a lot of _residents_ that wouldn't take kindly to our snooping through their personal possessions." Frank let the threat hang in the air as he stood with his hands on his hips waiting for her response.

"I heard that you came knocking earlier and dragged Mr Fuentes from his room, if I hadn't been out doing the grocery shopping I would have stopped you from even setting foot on my property." She gave Frank another withering glare, making her dislike of the burly detective strikingly obvious.

"Funny thing that, _Ms _Deakins, when I checked the land registry records it said that this place belongs to the state and _not _to you. Now, if you'd like me to arrest you for obstruction of justice I'm sure my two esteemed colleagues will be happy to oblige," Frank suggested as he motioned to the uniformed officers, "Why don't you go back to the kitchen and finish baking those cookies for your _boys. _There's a good dear now."

Ms Deakins sniffed in disgust before throwing the door open and stomping back to the pantry. Walter couldn't resist the urge to let out a long breath.

"What?" Frank spat, clearly still annoyed by his head to head with the elderly woman.

"Man, that was cold. You sure you should be talking to old ladies like that, didn't your mama teach you to treat your elders with respect?"

Walter's tone was teasing but Frank failed to see the funny side, "This _old lady _is harbouring known criminals under the guise of them being rehabilitated and put back into society. Fuentes built a bomb that killed two officers and right now he's our only link to the Malucci's. Those asswipes have Horatio and we have no idea where they might be, right now I haven't got time to play nice with a crotchety old lady." Frank ran a hand over his balding skull, "C'mon, let's toss his room and see what we come up with."

* * *

Eric made his way down to the morgue with Andy following closely behind, "What have you got, Tom?" he asked as he made his way over to the metal slab in the middle of the room. He was suddenly assaulted by an image of Horatio lying in the exact same spot, his body broken and beaten and all because they hadn't been smart enough to find him in time.

"Ah, Mr Delko," Tom responded brightly as he straightened up from the corpse he was working on and nudged his glasses higher up his nose. "So nice to see that you've brought a friend." To anyone that didn't know the medical examiner it would have been easy to mistake his comment for sarcasm. The doctor, although brilliant at his job, lacked a certain finesse when it came to social pleasantries, his lack of tact causing friction with members of the CSI team on more than one occasion. Eric had known Tom Loman long enough to let his comments pass and if he was honest he thought it added to the man's charm a little.

"Tom, this is Andy Sipowicz," he said as he gestured toward the burly man standing next to him. "He's an old colleague of Horatio's from back in New York; he's helping us with the case."

Tom shrugged his shoulders and returned to bending over the body on his table, intent sewing up the 'Y' incision he had made. "Any word on the Lieutenant?" he asked absent-mindedly.

"Not yet."

Tom glanced up at his visitors briefly, "Pity."

Eric sensed the anger building in the man standing next to him and grabbed Andy's arm before he could launch himself at the clinical and detached medical examiner. "Leave it," he commanded firmly.

The older man scowled at him but did as he was told, hiking his pants up before crossing his arms over his chest and huffing loudly, for all intents and purposes, sulking like a small child.

Eric walked closer to the table, "Anything you can tell us about the dead bodies we found at the house?"

Placing the tools of his trade down Tom looked up into Eric's face, "My initial assessment proved to be correct. All of the victims suffered a single gunshot wound to the forehead, I've only managed to process the one body so far but cursory examination of all four officers shows that the bullets are still inside the skull somewhere in three of them, but I did find that the fourth was a through and through, it might be an idea to go back to the scene and see if you can find it."

Eric felt his own hackles rising at Tom's insinuation that he and the team hadn't done their job properly. He bit back on a retort when he realised that the other man was probably right, they had been so consumed on the evidence from inside the house that they had failed to do more than a cursory inspection of the driveway, assuming that all four bullets would still be in the deceased officers. Eric kicked himself mentally for his sloppiness; this was not what Horatio had taught him. The stakes were too high now, what if a mistake like that cost his brother-in-law his life? It was important that he and the rest of the team kept their concentration and more importantly kept their cool, following the evidence would be the only way to find Horatio.

Tom handed a small dish to Eric; the clear plastic receptacle housed a bullet that had been pulled from the officer currently on the medical examiner's table. He was relieved to see that casing appeared to be in one piece and it gave him hope that Calleigh might be able to match it or at least give them an idea of the sort of gun they were looking for.

"I've called in reinforcements, Eric," Tom began as he pulled off the bloodied latex gloves he had been wearing. "Miss Smith from the weekend shift is coming in to help process the bodies, I thought it would be prudent seeing as time seems to be of the essence in this case." The medical examiner didn't give him time to reply before walking off to retrieve something from the corner of the room, seemingly bringing about an end to their conversation.


	70. Chapter 70

Walter placed the metal case containing his kit down on the carpeted surface of Juan Fuentes modest room, "This guy isn't exactly a neat freak," he mused aloud as his eyes scanned the room.

The room had been furnished with a single bed, a chest of drawers and a small television set. The walls were painted a dour off-white colour whilst the burgundy carpet was worn and stained, adorning the walls were posters of scantily clad women in nothing more than tiny, brightly coloured thongs. Searching the chest of drawers Frank sighed loudly as he pulled out a handful of copies of Hustler magazine, using his handkerchief as a shield and raised them up to show his colleague.

"Uh, I'd be careful you don't pick up any tissues you find if I were you," Walter teased as he started taking photos of the room. Placing his camera down on the bed he bent down from his considerable height and peered under the piece of furniture.

"Bingo!" he said as he pulled a blue sports bag out, opening it up he found that it was full of cash. "There must be nearly twenty grand in here, someone certainly had a big payday."

Further inspection of the room resulted in the discovery of several small bags of cocaine as well as spare wiring and components that could be used to make incendiary devices, providing cast-iron evidence that the man they had in custody was responsible for the explosion outside the crime lab.

"I'm going to bag and tag all of this stuff and take it back to the lab, maybe we can trace the money back to the Malucci's," Walter suggested as he bent over his field kit.

Frank nodded his head in agreement, hoping that they wouldn't be too late to save Horatio.

* * *

Calleigh stood quietly in Horatio's office watching Kyle sleep, she had returned to the room to find Kyle stretched out on the leather sofa, a worried frown marring his youthful features. Tucking the errant locks of hair that had fallen across his forehead brought back a painful reminder of the redhead and the way she had swept the hair off of his face the night before.

She heard Kyle mumble in his sleep and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder to quiet him, it seemed to have the desired effect as he turned slightly before breathing out the word, "Dad."

_He's so young,_ she thought to herself as she knelt by the couch watching him, _He's only just found his father, what will happen to Kyle if he loses him? No, s_he admonished herself, _that's not going to happen._

Rising slowly and adjusting the blanket covering the young man she gave him one final glance before leaving the room and shutting the door quietly behind her. Making her way to the break room she was stopped by Eric and Andy.

"Hey, Cal. How's Kyle holding up?"

"He's exhausted; he's sleeping in Horatio's office at the moment. I didn't have the heart to tell him to go home."

"He wouldn't have anywhere to go anyway; Horatio's house is still a crime scene."

"That's true," she replied as she noticed the puzzled look that Andy was giving her. Changing the subject she asked, "Did Tom pull that slug from one of the officers?"

Eric looked down at the clear plastic container and realised with some embarrassment that he had forgot he was still holding it. "Yeah, sorry," he replied as he handed it to her, "Tom's waiting for the M.E from the weekend shift to help him process the rest of the bodies, this one's from Officer Bell."

She lifted the bullet casing up to her eye level to inspect it, "Looks like a .22, I'll take it back to the ballistics lab and see if we get any matches in IBIS. Are Walter and Frank on their way back from the Fuentes search?"

"Yeah, I got a call about ten minutes ago, they should be back soon."

"Good, get hold of the whole team and tell them I want to meet me in Interrogation One in an hour."

* * *

The team had gathered as requested in the interrogation room, a room that by day was well-lit by the ferocious Miami sun beating through the glass walls but by night was dark and eerily cool. It had always been Horatio's favoured room to question suspects in; there were times when he would deliberately cut the air conditioning to the room to intensify the discomfort of the person put before him. The heat from the sun cascading through the windows combined with Horatio's fierce quest for justice would have most criminals rolling over and confessing their sins in an effort just to get away from the two unmovable forces of nature and mankind.

Natalia, Ryan and Walter were present as were Eric, Frank, Tom Loman and Andy, yet to Calleigh the room still felt strangely empty, void of the imposing presence of Lieutenant Horatio Caine. Without him the meeting just felt wrong, he should have been the one here guiding his team and leading them from the front, not her.

Feeling seven pairs of eyes on her she cleared her throat and began, "Thank you for all meeting me here, I know your shift finished hours ago. I brought you here so that we could discuss what we've found so far, who wants to go first?" She looked round the room expectantly.

Natalia was the first to speak, "The only DNA found on the rope and the rag found at the scene this morning came from Horatio and Mr Sipowicz, I found traces of some kind of fuel and motor oil on the rag so I sent it to Travers for analysis."

"Travers said the type of oil we found is most commonly used in diesel engine vehicles which would explain why we found diesel fuel on the rag too," Eric added.

"We searched Fuentes place and found the money along with a couple of bags of coke, I've logged it into evidence until I can analyse it."

"Thanks Walter," she responded before turning her attention to the medical examiner. "What have you found so far, Dr Loman?"

"Not much more than I already surmised at the scene, I take it you have the bullet I recovered from Officer Bell?"

"Yes, I'm going to work on it when we've finished here. How long before all of the autopsies are completed?"

Insulted by what he perceived as a criticism, Tom felt the need to defend himself, "You'll have to forgive me, Miss Duquesne, I've had an unexpected influx of visitors to the morgue today. My colleague Miss Smith is performing the second autopsy as we speak, as soon as we know anything I'll let you know."

Calleigh resisted the urge to answer him back and instead looked to Eric to supply any new information he had come across. "We need to go back to Calleigh's house in the morning, we're missing a bullet casing, seems we missed it the first time round." Six sets of eyes fell on the bulky Cuban and he suddenly felt uncomfortable, "I know it's a gravel drive but we should try to check for tyre tracks and footprints too."

"We've had nothing come back on the BOLO we put out for the SUV that followed you the other day, Calleigh, but my guys are still keeping an eye out for it. And the Honda Fuentes mentioned too." Frank added as he sat on the table and crossed his arms over his chest, "I've got officers working day and night, I also put out a BOLO based on the description that Fuentes and Horatio's old partner gave us," he said as he gave Andy a wary look.

It wasn't a lot but at least they had something to work with. "Okay, everyone go home and get some rest. I want you back here early in the morning and working at 100%, I'm going to stay just in case anything happens during the night."

"If you stay, we stay," Ryan said, speaking for the group as they all nodded in agreement.

"No," she replied firmly, "I don't want us to miss anything just because we're tired, you all need to come back with fresh minds and eyes tomorrow. The only way we can help Horatio is if we are at our best." All eyes landed on her once more, "That's an order, go home."

One by one the team reluctantly filed from the room, grumbling to each other as they did so. Andy kept in step with Eric until they were clear of the others, "I've got a question for you," he began.

Eric ran a weary hand across his face and head, "Sure, what is it?"

The burly man stopped and stood in front of Eric, preventing him from moving. "Who's Kyle?"

* * *

Sensation returned to his body slowly and the more coherent he became the less he welcomed its presence. With great effort he attempted to open his eyes but found nothing but blackness before him. For one shocking moment he thought that Gianni had succeeded in removing his eyes from their sockets, shocked by the though his head shot up quickly. It was then that he felt the touch of the hood against his face and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Shifting on the metal chair he attempted to find a more comfortable position for his already cramped legs, the movement caused pain to flare in his abdomen and so he abandoned his futile attempts to free himself of his confines. He rolled his head from side to side in an effort to relieve the stiffness in the muscles of his neck and shoulders but to no avail, the motion causing his stomach to roil uncontrollably.

His head shot to the right as he heard the creaking noise of the door being opened, robbed of his vision he attempted to use his other sense to ward off any attacks as best he could. Hearing footsteps coming towards him he braced himself for the impending beating that he knew was to come. He could feel the presence of someone by his side and prayed that whatever his captor was planning to do that it would be quick.

It caught him off-guard when the mystery figure moved away; he heard the sound of a chair being scraped across the floor and suddenly felt a warm breath in his face.

"Mr Kelly," a disembodied voice spoke softly to him, "I'm here to help you if you'll let me."


	71. Chapter 71

The disembodied voice spoke once more, "It doesn't have to be like this, you know. Gianni can get a little overexcited at times, lets his emotions get the better of him. You shouldn't anger him."

Still he maintained a stony silence, as he did so he heard something being opened and then the intoxicating smell of food permeated his senses. "Are you hungry, Detective Kelly?" the voice asked softly, "You must be, you've been here a while."

He could hear the sound of food being chewed and felt his stomach rumble involuntarily, time had lost any meaning since his abduction and he suddenly realised it could have been days since he'd last eaten. "I've brought enough for two, would you like some?"

His head told him that it was most likely a trap and that the food had been tainted somehow but still he could not control the involuntary nodding movement of his head. The smell of food became stronger as it was brought closer to him. "Tell me, Detective Kelly, tell me what I want to know," the voice was soft and low, almost hypnotic to his deprived senses.

His mouth felt dry; licking his lips he tasted blood. Finally he croaked, "What…what do you want with me?"

"Answers," was the succinct response, "It will be a lot easier and less painful for you to give us what we want."

"Who are you?" The dry sensation permeated his mouth again and he swallowed thickly.

"I believe that you knew my father quite well, he never was quite as ready to accept you as Uncle Benny was. He knew from the beginning that there was something that wasn't right about you but his brother refused to listen. Uncle Benny trusted you, you know." Danny Malucci recounted, keeping his voice level.

"I remember when the feds came knocking that day, I was just a little boy. They broke down our front door, pushed my mother to the floor and dragged my father away in handcuffs. Do you have any idea how upsetting that was for my sisters and I?"

"We had no idea why the FBI had come barging through our door, our mother cried for days after our father was taken. The only times I ever saw him after that was when I visited him in prison. Do you have any idea what it is like to not be able to touch your father, to only be able speak to him through a glass partition, to never have him by your side on your birthday, at Christmas or graduation?"

"I don't expect you to know what that feels like, to be denied a father for so much of your life but it changes a person, you know. My mother depended on him to provide for us, we'd become accustomed to the finer things in life, our house and my parents assets were seized not long after our father was arrested. My mother suddenly found the burden of responsibility thrust upon her, something that she was woefully inadequate at providing. Gianni's mother, my Aunt Junie, took us in and treated my sisters and me like we were her own whilst my mother drank herself into an early grave. My siblings and I found ourselves orphans before we were even teenagers."

"There were times when I would hear Aunt Junie talking on the phone, shouting and screaming that her husband and his brother had been persecuted by the FBI but the one thing I remember her saying the most was who was to blame for everything. She would work herself into a rage, cursing the day that her husband had introduced you into the family business."

"It became clear over time who had betrayed us; our fathers spent years planning their revenge on you. They knew that they would most likely never see the outside of prison cell again and so as Gianni and I got older they began to teach us the ropes of the family business."

"It wasn't easy, you know, rebuilding what our fathers had worked so hard to create all those years ago. New families had come in and muscled in on our turf, running the streets that we used to own. It's taken us years to get to where we are now, we've learnt that you have to do whatever it takes to survive, although I'm sure you understand that better than anyone."

He heard Danny pause for breath, the sound of a bottle being opened before he continued. "It's a shame that Uncle Benny didn't live to see how far we've come, he would have been proud of Gianni and I, the plans we have for _our _city. You should know that everything you did back then, all those lies you told, the people you betrayed, it was all for nothing. We're coming back faster, stronger, wiser. You can't stop us this time."

Whether through sleep deprivation, hunger or thirst his addled brain struggled to retain the amount of information his captor had thrown at him. "What do you want from me then?" he managed to croak out.

"My uncle and father swore revenge on you, Detective Kelly. For years they believed that you were dead, that justice had been served by your death, even though it wasn't by their hands. Imagine their shock when it was discovered that you were alive and well and in Miami of all places?"

"Before Benny died he asked one thing of Gianni and me, to make you pay for your betrayal of our family. We gave him our word that we would."

He felt beyond tired, he was exhausted and his body ached all over, whatever the Malucci's had planned he just hoped they would do it. Quickly. "Why don't you get it over with then?"

"Because that would be too easy, Detective Kelly. Our family suffered a great deal, we feel it is only right that we should return the favour."

"I don't have a family," he responded quietly as he hung his head, believing himself that the words he spoke were true.

"But you do. We've been watching you for quite a while; you have a lot of people that care a great deal about you and you them. Gianni would rather kill you quickly and get it over with."

"And you?" he asked, not wanting to know the answer.

"There are certain things that I want from you, Detective Kelly. We can make this as amicable a relationship as you want, that's up to you. I'm going to leave you to think about that for a while. There's a bottle of water and some food on the floor, when you decide you want to give me what I want you can have them. That sounds like a fair trade, doesn't it?"

He heard the footsteps recede as Danny left the room, leaving him cold and alone in the dark with only his thoughts for company. The man had certainly given him plenty to think about, the thinly veiled threats against those he cared for, he was in no position to be able to protect them now. Pulling against his bindings he once more vainly attempted to free himself from the chair but found himself unable to, he growled as his anger overrode his sense of self-preservation as he pulled harder at the ropes around his wrists, feeling and welcoming the burning sensation that his movements brought.

It was hard to know which man was the lesser of two evils, Gianni and his sadistic and painful torture methods or Danny whose motives were not so clear, was the latter man just playing mind games with him? He knew which he'd rather if he had a choice, at least if Gianni centred his attention on him it would spare those he cared about. Danny was too much of an unknown quantity, he had no idea how far the man would go in the name of revenge. _Just give him what he wants, _the voice in the back of his head told him. _No! _Another voice shouted, _you don't even know what it is he wants._

He sat helplessly as the warring voices in his head debated back and forth as to what he should do, with each minute that ticked by he could feel his hunger and thirst getting worse. The pitch black darkness of the room and the hood on his head was beginning to make him feel claustrophobic as he battled to keep his breathing under control. Hard as he tried to control his actions he couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the sense of panic he felt.

He heard water beginning to flow from a pipe at the opposite side of the room, the sound of running water increasing the painful thirst he was experiencing as his mind screamed at him to give his captors whatever it was that they wanted. The sound of a fan whirring filled the room and soon he felt the sensation of the cool air touching the bare skin on his chest and arms causing the flesh on them to prickle painfully. He began to shiver from the cold; the voices in his head screaming louder and louder at him until his conscious mind mercifully took pity on him and dragged him back to the warm and inviting sensation of nothingness.


	72. Chapter 72

_He watched with a sense of some detachment as they dragged the bound and hooded figure into the room. The prisoner kept his head down as he felt a swift boot to the back of his knees, causing him to fall to the ground in a heap. Hands tied behind his back he was unable to right himself, rough hands grabbed him under each arm and positioned him so that he was kneeling._

_He glanced at the prisoner's captors but didn't recognise any of the faces, they were faces that were covered with swathes of cloth, the only areas visible were their cold and unforgiving eyes. He recognised immediately the language they spoke, the men screamed at their captor in Farsi. He didn't know much of the dialect but enough to pick up the words 'traitor' and 'vengeance', he swallowed deeply and pulled at the bindings on his own wrists as the men began punching and kicking the immobile figure before them._

_He bellowed at them to stop, to have mercy on the man bound before them, he grew increasingly frustrated when they ignored his pleas. Soon the men began sniggering and laughing as they watched their prisoner gasp for breath, begging for them to stop. He heard the words 'pathetic' and 'coward' as the men continued to torture the hooded figure._

_He hung is own head in shame, unable to offer his fellow prisoner any assistance, tears fell involuntarily from his eyes as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. He hung his head and caught sight of his ripped US Army uniform, covered in blood and dust and felt shame at being naïve enough to get caught by the enemy. He hoped the rest of his unit had managed to get out of the province and back to base as he clung on to the faint hope of being rescued before he too was subjected to the whims of his captors._

_He winced as he heard the sound of something hard and unyielding striking flesh and suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of nausea as he watched the hooded figure slide bonelessly to the ground, lying face-down and unmoving. He prayed that the man's suffering would soon be over._

_For the first time he took a good look at his fellow prisoner, he gasped in shock as he realised that the other man was not wearing a uniform like his, the man was dressed in black pants and a torn and tattered shirt, the colour of which had been marred by layers of dirt and blood. There was something familiar about the way the man dressed but as hard as he tried he was unable to put his finger on what it was that made him think that he knew the man._

_His eyes and those of his captors shot towards the corner of the room as they heard the sound of a heavy metal door creaking open. The men who had so mercilessly beaten the bound and hooded man scurried to another corner of the room and bowed their heads in reverence to their master. Dragging his eyes from the imposing figure that had entered the room his gaze fell once more on the other prisoner who lay unmoving on the floor, seemingly unaware of the presence of another person. He silently hoped the man was already dead and would be spared any more pain._

_The men shuffled back over to the figure lying on the floor, following the orders of their master they dragged the man towards the wall in the far corner of the room and left him in a seated position. He heard the sound of a gun being loaded and then the unmistakable sound of the hammer being cocked. All the while he kept his eyes on the unmoving man at the other end of the room trying to figure out what it was that was so familiar about him. The thought flittered around the edges of his brain but refused to make itself known, he growled under his breath in frustration knowing that time was running out. He knew he needed to make the connection; both of their lives were depending on it. He pulled on his bindings tighter as a sense of foreboding washed over him. In his mind he heard the hands of a clock ticking, with each second that passed the chances of his and his fellow prisoner's escape lessened._

_All too soon time had run out, one of the men moved forward it his master's command and pulled the hood from the bound man's head, it was then that his panicked mind allowed him to make the connection. The head of his fellow prisoner was listlessly resting on his chest, the man seemingly unconscious. The same man that had removed the hood pulled the man's head up by his hair; even though the hair was matted with blood and dirt he would have recognised that distinctive colour anywhere. He didn't need to look in the man's face to know who he was, he knew already. _

_Recognising the figure before him he pulled harder on the ropes that held him but they refused to budge, he watched helplessly as a bullet was placed cleanly between the eyes of the other man as blood sprayed the wall behind him. He screamed and pulled even more as he watched the man tip sideways and fall to the floor. It didn't seem to matter how much he screamed or how loudly he shouted the words, he was unable to make a sound. Over and over he tried to get the word out, a word that for many years he had never had the chance to use but now it seemed more important than ever to try, and he would keep trying until they killed him too._

* * *

Calleigh had been on her way to the ballistics lab after concluding the team meeting, feeling deflated at the lack of progress they had made. Deciding that her time would be better to keep her mind occupied she carried the bullet that Eric had passed onto her and hoped that she would be able to match it to another logged in the IBIS database. She knew the chances were slim, the Malucci's had been careful so far and it seemed unlikely that they would slip up on something as traceable as a handgun. It seemed futile but she knew she had to try, she owed it to Horatio, he had taught the team to never leave any piece of evidence unturned, _We follow the evidence and find the criminal, _wasn't that what he always used to say?

Pushing the thoughts of Horatio to the back of her mind she willed herself to concentrate on the job at hand, the best chance the team had of finding him and bringing him back in one piece depended on her ability to be able to separate her heart from her head. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes momentarily; praying that she had the strength to do what was needed.

As she closed her eyes she heard a noise emanating from Horatio's office, her mind still on full alert she reached for the service weapon at her hip and pulled it out. Making her way further to the office she heard a voice shouting the same word repeatedly. Re-holstering her weapon she made her way quietly into the room and watched the restless figure on the couch, an errant tear slid down her cheek as she listened to the pained voice.

She made her way over to him slowly and placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly. "Kyle, it's ok," she said softly as he repeated the same word again and again.

Seeing that she was not getting through to him she called his name again, louder this time. "Kyle, you're dreaming. You need to wake up."

His sudden movement caught her by surprise as he shot up into a seated position; his clear blue eyes wide open as he screamed, "Dad!"

He sat gasping for breath as his eyes slowly fell back to Calleigh, he repeated the word again as he ran a shaky hand through his hair but this time the word was filled with such a sense of longing and despair that it threatened to make the woman in front of him burst into tears.

Saying nothing she pulled him towards her and enveloped him in a fierce embrace as more tears spilled from her own eyes. She felt the young man's arms go round her as she rocked him gently and told him, "We'll find him. We'll bring him back alive and well, I promise."

He held onto her tightly, grasping on to whatever small piece of his father he could still find, he heard the conviction in her voice as she promised him she would return the man who had become such an important part of his life back to him. He hoped desperately that she would be right, from such a difficult beginning he had grown close to the father that he never knew he had. The few short years that they had known each other had been some of the happiest times that he could remember, he had a father he was proud of and it had spurred him on to be a better man too and with a father like his he knew he stood a chance of being able to do just that.

His father had brought some much needed stability into his life and with it he had flourished, turning his back on his troubled past and building a new life for himself. His father had become his pillar of strength and he knew without him to guide him the foundations that he had worked so hard to build would crumble to the ground around him.


	73. Chapter 73

**A/N: Again, I feel it only right to warn you that there is another torture scene in this chapter that some people might find upsetting.**

He woke again slowly with his head on his chest, as he attempted to move his weary head he felt the aching pain in his neck. Opening his eyes he was surprised to find that his head was no longer covered, he winced as he gazed ahead at the bright light permeating his vision, almost blinding him with its ferocity. He would have held an arm up to his face had he not been bound to the chair he was sat on.

He felt the shooting pains of cramp in his legs as he tried in a futile effort to move them and encourage some sort of blood flow back into the aching appendages but it was no use, the bindings on his legs were too tight to afford him more than a few centimetres of movement.

The strength of the light that filled the room also filled it with a sense of warmth that he had been missing since his capture as he basked in the warm glow. The pleasure was short lived as he heard the power to the fan being cut, he felt the perspiration drip from his face as the temperature in the room began to rise and as it did so he felt his thirst become harder to bear.

He heard the sound of the door being opened and glanced across to see who had come to taunt him this time; his heart sank when Gianni Malucci ambled across the room with a bottle of water in his hands. Maintaining eye contact with the man he refused to give his captor the psychological advantage.

"You feeling thirsty yet, Detective Kelly?" the young man goaded him as he dragged a chair closer to his bound victim, taking a long swig from the plastic bottle. "Sure is a scorcher out there today don't you think?"

He continued to stare at his captor, his blue eyes full of steely determination. A determination he hadn't known he'd possessed until now. It didn't matter what he told them, he was a dead man either way, his only hope of survival depended on a group of people he hardly knew.

"Still giving me the silent treatment, huh?" Gianni mused as he stroked his chin thoughtfully.

He watched warily as Gianni left the room, slamming the door closed behind him. He'd rather hoped the younger man had stayed where he was as at least his presence blocked out some on the intense heat and light emanating from across the room.

Moments later his captor had returned along with two of his colleagues, fear began to seep into his bones as his mind raced at the possibilities of what they might do to him. He couldn't see what was happening as two men stood behind him and grabbed him painfully by the shoulders and arms. Gianni stood in front of him once more, smirking as he held a cell phone in his hands.

"Don't forget to smile for the camera," he goaded as he nodded at the men behind his prisoner.

He felt the rope tying his wrists loosen but barely had time to react before he was dragged from the chair. One pair of hands let go of him as the others pulled him to the floor, he felt the swift kicks to his abdomen and bit on his lip as he tried not to groan. He felt himself being turned on his side, his left arm held out in front of him.

Glancing up he saw Gianni standing over him, phone in hand as he spoke into it. "Just thought we'd let you know that we're taking good care of your boy here, we'll tell you where you can find the body when we've finished with him."

He watched as Gianni glanced to one of the men and nodded, he didn't see the baseball bat coming down towards his arm until it was too late. This time the pain was too much, he let out a feral scream as he felt the bones in his arm break, not caring that his suffering was being recorded for the sick pleasure of his captor.

* * *

Eric had taken Andy to an all-night coffee shop, not wanting to discuss Kyle back at the station. He had tried his best to avoid the topic of conversation for as long as he could but the wizened New York detective was persistent if nothing else.

"Spit it out, kid," Andy grumbled as he took a sip of his black coffee before tearing off a small piece of his blueberry muffin and placing it in his mouth.

"Where do you want me to start?" Eric replied as he took a sip of his coffee and tried to avoid eye contact with the other man.

"The beginning is usually good," Andy deadpanned.

Eric took a deep breath before starting, "Kyle is Horatio's son."

The older man nearly choked on his coffee as he did a double-take, "Come again?"

"Horatio has a son, his name's Kyle Harmon."

"Wow," Andy responded as he blew his cheeks out in surprise, "How old is the kid?"

"Seventeen, he's in the US Army. He came back on leave today."

"How come John didn't say anything about him to me?" Andy tried to keep the hurt out of his voice as he spoke. Now that the feelings of anger had started to subside he realised almost painfully that there was so much he didn't know about his old partner's life. He had spent too many years wrapped in his own bitterness and misery to pay attention to what was going on with the people around him. He felt hurt that John didn't feel comfortable enough telling him of his son's existence.

He could sense the Cuban's reluctance to answer the question, "What aren't you telling me?" he asked as his eyes narrowed, he might have been retired but he could still tell when someone was withholding the truth.

"With Horatio's memory issues it's…..uh…."

"For God's sake spit it out man!" Andy shouted, beginning to lose his temper.

Eric took another swig of coffee, "He has no idea that Kyle exists, he doesn't know that he has a son."

Eric could see the cogs whirring in the older man's mind as he digested the news he'd just been given, "He doesn't know the kid exists, why didn't one of you tell him?" he asked accusingly.

"It never seemed like the right time, there was always something else going on. Calleigh was going to tell him before…..well, you know…." He let the unfinished statement hang in the air.

Andy drained the last of his coffee and put the mug back down in the table with more force than he had intended, both men glanced around the room as all conversations stopped at the sound of china hitting wood. He lowered his voice as he leant closer to Eric, "You know if the Malucci's find out about this that they're going to use it against him, don't you?"

The younger man ran a ragged hand over his closely-cropped black hair, "I know, we should have told him and now it's too late." He looked up hopefully at the man who had shaped so much of Horatio's younger years, "We'll get him back though."

Andy moved his considerable bulk from the booth they had been sitting in and threw a handful of bills down on the table, "You better hope so," he said as he shook his head and walked away.

* * *

She had been staring at the bullet casing for hours, searching the IBIS database over and over in an attempt to find a match to the slug that had been pulled from the recently deceased Officer Bell. So far her searches had come up empty, her original assessment had proved correct, the bullet was a .22 calibre but its striations didn't match anything in the nationwide database. Without the gun or serial number there was not much more that she could do, the gun had to have been new and only recently registered, her only hope was to run a search on listed owners of handguns that fired .22 calibre bullets and to start her search in the state of New York. It was a long shot and she knew that she was clutching at straws but right now it was all she had.

Her thoughts were disturbed by her cell phone vibrating against the metal desk she was working at, pulling her eyes away from the microscope she glanced at the display and answered it.

"Calleigh, it's Johnson from the night shift," a female voice said.

"What can I do for you?"

"I thought you'd like to know that a package has just been delivered to the front desk, it's addressed to you."

Panic seized her as the other woman's words sank in, could it be another bomb from the Malucci's or was it something else equally as sinister? "Johnson, listen to me. Whatever you do don't touch that package, I'm coming up now. Tell everyone to evacuate the building."

**A/N: I might have taken a few liberties with Kyle's age in this chapter but it is necessary for the story to work as a whole, I hope it doesn't detract from anyone's enjoyment too much.**


	74. Chapter 74

**A/N: I forgot to mention when I posted the last chapter but I wanted to take the time to thank everyone who has read and reviewed the story so far. I certainly didn't expect to hit 400 reviews, the story and its popularity has exceeded all my expectations. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart xxx**

* * *

She had to admit that she had never been so glad to see anyone in her life as she watched the tall and gangly frame of Simon Hutchings walking towards her.

"Miss Duquesne, I came as soon as I could. What's happened?" he asked concern evident in his voice.

"Simon, I'm so sorry for waking you but I didn't know who else to call," she began as she ran a distracted hand through her hair.

When Calleigh volunteered no more information Simon prodded her gently, "You say that a package was delivered earlier, addressed to you?"

She nodded her head as she kept her eyes on the building, preparing for the explosion that could emanate at any moment. "I…..we've had packages delivered recently from the people who've been after Horatio. They were just photos last time but after what happened in the other day well…I didn't want to risk it."

Simon placed a reassuring hand on her arm and gave it a light squeeze, a gesture that reminded her so much of Horatio. "You did the right thing, I'll go and check it out and then you can go home and say hi to Horatio for me."

His smile faltered as he saw the distraught look on Calleigh's face, "Miss Duquesne, what's wrong?"

She could feel the tears pricking at her eyes and willed them to stay in place, "They took him….they have him, Simon."

The shock registered clearly on his face, it took a few moments for the words to register before he forced himself to return to his professional demeanour and get down to business. "Clear everyone back to at least 350 feet, I'll send the robot in to check the package out. Do you know where it was left?"

"On the reception desk," she replied, her eyes still glued to the building.

It seemed like hours as Calleigh and Kyle stood waiting outside the crime lab along with the employees who worked the night shift, waiting for Simon to give them the all-clear to return. Exhaustion and worry began to eat at Kyle like a cancer, "What the hell is taking him so long, we're wasting time standing out here!" he growled in frustration.

"Let him do his job, Kyle," Calleigh responded, trying to placate the angry young man.

"Don't you see what they're doing? They don't want us to find him until it's too late, we have to do something, Calleigh!"

"We're doing all we can, running off half-cocked isn't going to do your father any good. We have to keep calm."

"Easy for you to say," Kyle muttered bitterly, "He's just your boss; you could get a replacement tomorrow if you wanted to. He's my father, you don't care about him like I do," he finished petulantly.

Unable to hold back her emotions any longer she turned on Kyle quickly and grabbed him painfully by both arms. "Of course I care about him! Your father means more to me than you realise." Her words trailed off as it occurred to her that she nearly let her true feelings for Horatio show, "I'd do anything for him," she finished softly.

Kyle could feel his anger dissipating as he took a long look at the forlorn figure standing in front of him. One look in her clear green eyes and he knew that she was just as worried about his father as he was, there was something so truthful in those eyes that he knew he could trust her. Trust wasn't something that came easy to Kyle, years of being bumped from foster home to foster home had made him wary of others, spending time with his father had begun to heal the deep wounds in his heart and soul and now he found himself once more adrift in a sea of negative emotions, emotions he didn't understand. He needed his father and his strength to help him through it, this time though he knew he was alone. It was up to him to be the man his father needed him to be; for once he needed to be the strong one.

"I know, Calleigh," he said quietly as his features softened, "I know."

Simon Hutchings finally returned from the building and made his way over to Calleigh; brushing the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead he tore the Velcro straps from his protective armour as he divested himself of it. "All clear, Miss Duquesne. It was a false alarm; it appears to just be a cell phone. I couldn't find any trace of explosives in or around the package."

She let out a long breath as she sighed in relief, "Thank God for that. Thank you so much for coming out, I know it's the middle of the night," she said by way of apology, feeling as if she'd wasted the bomb disposal expert's time.

"You did the right thing, Miss Duquesne. I said you could call me any time; any friend of Horatio's is a friend of mine. Let me know when you find the scumbags, I want to have a piece of them too," he responded anger evident in his voice.

"Get in line," Kyle muttered as he stood with his hands in the pockets of his Army fatigue pants.

Simon looked the younger man up and down, "You must be Horatio's boy," he mused as he gave Kyle a soft smile.

"Who are you?" he replied, giving the other man a wary look.

"I used to work with your father on the bomb squad. I have a son too, not much older than you. You have his eyes you know, and his stubborn streak by the looks of it." Simon appeared unfazed by the unfriendly look Kyle was shooting him, "You definitely got that glare from your dad too. Stay strong Kyle, Horatio's team will find him and bring him home. His team would walk through walls for him if they had to; they're the best at what they do. Trust them."

Simon didn't give him a chance to reply before he had walked away and was making his way back over to his vehicle, leaving Kyle to muse on his words. Trust had never been something he found easy to come by for him, just when he thought he'd found a bit of stability in his life he had found the rug swiftly pulled from under his feet only to be told to place his father's fate in the hands of a group of people he barely knew.

Despite her protests, Kyle had followed Calleigh back into the building and was currently sitting next to her at the observation table in one of the many rooms of the crime lab. Pulling on latex gloves Calleigh carefully removed the cell phone from the cardboard box it had been delivered in. She gave the box itself a cursory inspection, noting the handwritten address and brown packaging tape that had been used to seal it shut. She placed the box to one side, fully intending to log it into evidence before processing it for fingerprints and DNA.

She tried to keep her hands steady as she held the phone, watching as the text message symbol flashed on the screen. Taking a quick glance at Kyle she opened the message, **"Watch the video." **it said.

Clicking on the link at the bottom of the message she heard Kyle gasp just before she did as they watched with horror at the scene unfolding before them.


	75. Chapter 75

**A.N: Again, just another warning that some readers might find this chapter a little upsetting.**

She saw him bound to a metal chair, the hand that held the camera moved backwards and forwards in a shaky fashion but the identity of the occupant of the chair was obvious. She sucked in an involuntary breath as she studied his bruised and battered features, his face bloodied and swollen and a testament to the harsh treatment he had been subjected to. Glancing further down she took in the sight of his torn t-shirt and the blood that stained the bare patches of skin that she was able to see.

Two bulky frames came into view but their faces were frustratingly hidden from the camera, all that was visible of the two men were their black t-shirts and jackets, the only face she could see, that of Horatio. It seemed like she could almost sense his pain as she saw him hiss as he was grabbed forcefully by the shoulders, gripping the phone harder she stole another quick look at Kyle.

"Kyle, I don't think it's a good idea for you to see this, maybe you should step out of the room," she suggested.

He shook his head furiously in response, "I'm staying," he said with conviction as he kept his eyes on the small screen of the phone, watching as his father was thrown to the floor.

"Don't forget to smile for the camera," a voice behind the phone taunted.

Kyle thumped a fist down on the table as he watched as his father was mercilessly set upon by the two unknown figures. After what seemed like an eternity the beating stopped and Horatio lay on the floor gasping and trying to catch his breath.

The two of them watched in horror as Horatio was dragged onto his left side, head facing towards the camera. It was then that they saw the bruised and swollen fingers, clear evidence that the redhead had been tortured by his captors. Kyle swallowed thickly as he saw one of the men hold his father's left arm out and held it in place in front of him.

Suddenly the angle of the camera changed as the man behind it moved closer to his hapless victim. "Just thought we'd let you know that we're taking good care of your boy here, we'll tell you where you can find the body when we've finished with him," the cold voice taunted again.

Within seconds something wooden flashed across the screen and then the sound of something hard and unforgiving striking flesh before the man lying on the floor let out a harsh scream. Within seconds the screen went blank.

Neither of them spoke or moved, both too shocked and trying desperately to comprehend what they'd just seen. Calleigh knew that she would never be able to get the image of Horatio being tortured out of her mind, the sound of wood hitting flesh and bones cracking would stay with her until the day she died.

She took another glance at Kyle who had stood rooted to the spot, staring at the cell phone on the table. The poor boy had already seen too much horror in such a short life, in foster care, in prison and then in the Army in the middle of a warzone. Throughout all those times he was able to separate himself from the things he had seen, it was the only way he knew he could survive. This time it was different, this time he had stand back and watch helplessly as the man he had grown so close to was beaten by a bunch of cowardly criminals.

He felt the blood begin to boil in his veins and cursed the fact that he did not have his Army-issued service weapon on him, the urge to shoot something, anything, was becoming increasingly hard to resist. He had no idea how his father did it, how he managed to keep his cool even under the most trying of circumstances when all around him lost their heads. How could his father see past the red mists of rage that he himself found so hard to control?

It was one of the reasons he had grown so close to his father since he had first met him those difficult few years ago. Their first meeting had been awkward and painful, neither knowing what to say to the other. He'd been in and out of foster homes and trouble since he'd been taken into care as a young boy. To realise that he had a father and that he was a man he could be proud of came as something of a surprise to Kyle, he hadn't realised how much he'd needed his father's stability until then.

Things hadn't always been easy since those early days, both took time to work the other out, but he knew his father was a man of conviction and honour and a man he could trust. He hoped one day he might be half the man his father was and he knew that in order to achieve that he would need to adopt some of the older man's steely resolve and determination.

He stood next to Calleigh and looked directly into her eyes, no words were spoken between them, the look they shared said it all.

* * *

The throbbing sensation in his arm brought him back to consciousness with some force, groaning as he lifted his head he tried to make sense of what had happened to him. The last thing he could remember was a flash of something wooden and then an unending and blinding pain that flashed through his left arm and shot up towards his shoulder. He knew he must have passed out after that, he bit harshly on his bottom lip as he once more found himself bound to the metal chair.

The blinding light was back, even as he squinted and then closed his eyes he could not black out the intense light and heat that radiated from a short way across the room. He could feel the perspiration beginning to form on his face as the temperature in the room increased, he knew what his captors were doing, trying to make him beg for mercy but he refused, he would not give them the satisfaction.

Something deep within him began to stir, a strength and sense of conviction that he hadn't known he'd possessed. Calleigh had placed her faith in him and even though he wasn't sure why she felt he deserved it he knew that he at least owed it to her to try to fight to survive for as long as he could. Each time his captors came to torture him he would stand firm and concentrate on the image of the beautiful blonde woman in his mind, the thought of her would block any physical pain that he was made to withstand.

Just as the scorching heat in the room was becoming too much to bear the room suddenly descended into darkness as the fan kicked in again, providing a blessed relief. Gradually the temperature in the room dropped until it started to become painfully cold, he felt the shivers begin to course through his body as the darkness seemed to close in on him.

The pattern continued for what seemed like hours, blinding light followed by scorching heat then complete darkness and freezing temperatures. The constant changing of his environment left him feeling disorientated and weak, the thirst becoming almost more than he could bear. He wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to hold out before he begged for his captors to bring him some water.

Letting his head drop to his chest, the strength he felt earlier began to wane. His mind urging him not to give in as his tired and dehydrated body begged for mercy. Sitting in the darkness as another shiver coursed through his body he opened his mouth to call out to his captors just as he felt the warmth of a hand on his face.

"Don't give up, Horatio. You can fight this," a beautiful and melodic voice spoke to him as a soft hand continued to caress his face.


	76. Chapter 76

He opened his eyes as she gently tilted his face to meet his, gasping as he saw the beautiful woman in front of him. Her long black hair framed her youthful features as her soulful brown eyes stared deep into his.

He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, "I don't know who you are," he began almost breathlessly, "It's too dangerous, you shouldn't be here. Please, you need to leave. Now," he pleaded with her.

She placed a finger on his lips, "Shhhhhh," she crooned as she stroked the right side of his face with her other hand. "They can't hurt me anymore."

His brow creased in confusion as he struggled to understand the meaning of her words, "You have to get out of here, they'll come back," he insisted as his breathing increased along with his heart rate.

"I'm safe now," she repeated as she took his face in both of her hands, "You have to be strong, Horatio. They need you, they've always needed you."

"Who?" he asked as his voice grew louder with frustration, "I don't understand!" He could feel another shiver course through his body.

With a loud thumping noise he heard the lights come back on again, he screwed his eyes shut in an effort to protect them from the harsh glare.

"Open your eyes, Horatio," the soft, melodic voice commanded.

There was something familiar in her voice, he knew that he must have known her from somewhere but was at a loss as to why or how. Listening to her sweet timbre he felt a strange sense of sadness wash over him, mixed with a terrible longing.

"Please, open your eyes and look at me."

With an unknown strength of will he kept his eyes firmly shut as he began to recite the words of that special song he and Lori shared on their wedding day. _"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when….."_

His recitation was stopped mid-flow as he felt a pair of soft, warm lips come into contact with his own. An overwhelming sense of déjà vu hit him like a truck, he'd felt those very same lips before. But where?

He opened his eyes slowly and sucked in a breath; she looked down on him and smiled. The light behind her gave her an ethereal glow, as if she were an angel visiting from Heaven. He felt an almost physical pain in his chest as a sliver of a memory flashed through his mind.

He'd seen her before, remembered her leaving him outside a restaurant as he begged her to stay with him. The melancholy look she gave him as she walked away from him almost broke his heart as she placed a gentle kiss on his lips and told him that he had to go back. He didn't understand, where was he supposed to go?

The face was achingly familiar and yet he still couldn't place her, couldn't understand the intense emotions that flowed through his mind as he continued to gaze into her loving, brown eyes.

"I'm not in pain anymore, Horatio. I'm free," she told him as she smiled sweetly at him. "Don't feel sad for me, I'm at peace."

She wiped the errant tear that had escaped from his eye, "I will always watch over you, but you must fight this. You're stronger than they are, you mustn't let them break you."

He could feel what little strength he possessed draining away as he sighed deeply. "I'm so tired."

"I know you are, my love. You must find the strength to carry on, they need you," she repeated again, cryptically.

"I don't understand, who needs me?"

"They all do," she replied once more.

"I don't know who _they _are."

She smiled at again as she moved further away from him, "When the time is right, you will know," she answered as she began to walk backwards toward the light.

"What time, when?" a sense of desperation gripped him as he saw the beautiful stranger move away from him.

"You will know. Have faith, Horatio. Be strong, I love you," her words became harder to hear as her form began to dissipate and blend into the blinding brightness.

"No, wait!" he shouted as he pulled on the ropes keeping him bound to the chair, not caring as the movement sent sickening pain through his left arm. "Wait, come back!"

He begged her repeatedly to return but to no avail, he hung his head as the lights once more went out and the room was plunged into eerie darkness. He couldn't help the feeling that overcame him, a feeling that he had failed her in some way. He felt the tears running down his battered face as he whispered, "I'm sorry. Please…forgive me."

* * *

The harsh knocking on the door of Horatio's office made her jump, she hadn't realised she'd been staring into the cup of coffee in front of her on the desk until then. Brushing back the hair from her face she set about straightening her appearance before beckoning her visitor in, smiling as she saw the curly-haired head of the department's resident technology and audio specialist poking his head round the door.

"Calleigh, I got here as quickly as I could. What do you need me to do?" Dave Benton asked as he made his way fully into the room. To a casual observer it would have been easy to write him off as nothing more than beach bum; his laid-back-surfer-dude taste in clothes belied the fact that the lab tech was a highly qualified specialist in his field.

Schooling her thoughts, Calleigh took a deep breath before responding. "We had a package delivered to the lab last night, a cell phone. There was a text message and a video, I need you to go over the phone with a fine-tooth comb and see if there is anything that might lead us to Horatio's location."

"Sure thing," he replied, sensing that she was holding something back from him. "Was there anything else?"

"No. Thanks, Dave." She hesitated as she fiddled with the jotter on the desk, "The video is….graphic. No one else is to see it, understood?"

He began to feel slightly uncomfortable at the ferocity of her stare, "You have my word, as soon as I find anything I'll let you know." He picked the sealed bag containing the phone up, turning before he left the room, "This'll get top priority, if there's anything that'll help us track down Horatio I'll let you know straight away."

Calleigh gave a tight nod in response, wanting nothing more than for Dave to close the door and leave her alone. She had finally convinced Kyle to head over to Eric's apartment to rest properly some hours ago, the young man had refused at first and it had become a battle of wills between the pair of them. The nightmare that had claimed the young man earlier had shook both of them, Calleigh had insisted that Kyle rest properly and had promised to ring him when she had any news.

The problem was that she had no news to report, Horatio had been missing for nearly twenty-four hours and they were still no closer to finding him. The video the Malucci's had sent made it clear that the redhead was not being treated well; the image of his battered visage sent a chill coursing down her spine. With every hour that ticked by the chances of finding Horatio alive grew smaller.

Shaking the negative thoughts from her head she glanced at the watch on her wrist, it was barely past seven a.m. but she could already hear the hustle and bustle of the team as they began gathering in the break room. She couldn't fault their enthusiasm or their loyalty to their leader, coming in a full two hours early for their shift, doing anything they could to find Horatio. She knew that as soon as they saw her emerge from Horatio's office that they would look to her for answers and she wondered how he did it. He had always led his team from the front, seeming so sure of his actions; did Horatio ever question his ability to lead the team?

Now was not the time to be second-guessing herself, thrust into an impossible situation the only thing she could do was what the enigmatic redhead had always taught her, follow the evidence. And she would, hoping that it would lead them to him before it was too late.


	77. Chapter 77

**A/N: This is likely to be the last chapter I will post until early next week. I am planning to take a short break from writing for personal reasons, the break should last no longer than 4 or 5 days but it is something that I need to do. Thank you for your understanding.**

* * *

The break room descended into silence as soon as Calleigh entered and all eyes fell instantly on her. She cleared her throat as she closed the door quietly. She felt her heart rate increase as the room full of people looked at her expectantly.

"Thank you all for coming in early," she began in a strong voice that belied the nervous tension she was feeling, "I'm sure you've heard by now that the Malucci's made contact with us last night, I've got Dave working on the cell phone as we speak. I need you all to get back to what you were working on yesterday and contact me ASAP if you find anything."

There were nods of heads and murmurs of, "You got it," as the team filed out of the room quietly talking amongst themselves in hushed tones. It left her standing with two familiar faces staring at her intently.

"I thought I asked you to stay at Eric's and rest," she said tiredly to Kyle who had perched himself on the edge of the couch.

"I couldn't sleep," he responded, his voice not much more than a whisper. "I couldn't sleep knowing he's out there. You saw what they did to him, Calleigh, I don't want to be sitting around and regret not doing everything I could to find him."

"Kyle, we've already discussed this. You can't be involved."

He stood up to meet her face to face; she had to admit that he certainly looked better than he had the day before. At least he had bothered to shower, shave and change into something that wasn't army fatigues. The crystal blue eyes that he had inherited from his father still looked tired but were significantly brighter than they were yesterday.

"I promise that I won't get in the way, I just want to be here in case anything happens." He looked at her with watery, pleading eyes.

Against her better judgement she nodded her head tightly as Kyle gave a sigh of relief and sat back down on the couch. She turned her attention to the other man in the room that up until now had remained silent.

"I thought you were meant to be heading back to New York," she asked him sternly as her tiredness and frustration began to get the better of her. The ageing man in front of her had hardly been Horatio's most loyal supporter since he'd arrived reluctantly in Miami a few days ago.

Andy brushed off the comment; years of practice of getting on the wrong side of women had practically left him immune to their changeable moods. "I thought I could be more use here," he responded in an equally firm tone, ready for a war of words if needs be. "I was a cop for a long time; I know how to work an investigation. Let me help."

"A few days ago you didn't care whether he was dead or alive and now you want to help?" she asked incredulously.

"Look, _lady, _they've had him for nearly twenty four hours now and you've got jack shit. Looks like you need all the help you can get."

She would later berate herself for her lack of professionalism but right now she needed an outlet for the panic and frustration that was beginning to overwhelm her and she had found a suitable target in the rotund and balding man in front of her.

"Where were you when he needed help back in New York!" she shot back as her voice rose. "Where were you when he was out there all alone? You turned your back on him; you were so quick to believe that he was dirty. How could you?"

He opened his mouth to respond, his ego quicker to jump into gear than his brain before he suddenly stopped himself from saying something he would later regret. With a sense of shame he realised that what she said was true, he'd abandoned his partner when he needed him the most, left him to fend for himself as he single-handedly brought down an entire criminal organisation.

"I know," he responded, hating himself for admitting it to anyone, especially a woman and especially her. "I let him down back then, but not now. I know you're not exactly keen on me but this isn't about me and you, this is about finding John and bringing him home. I can help you with that."

"He's right," Kyle added. "Everyone needs to work together if we're going to find Dad, being at each other's throats all the time isn't helping."

As she continued to give Andy a fearsome glare she realised that the boy was right, their attention needed to be solely concentrated on finding Horatio. "Fine, but stay out of my way. Do you still have a permit to carry a weapon?"

He responded with a snort, "Of course I do, I live in Brooklyn for Christ's sake. You're naked if you don't go out with one."

"You're here in an unofficial capacity, you shoot anyone then it's on you. Don't expect me to cover your ass, understood?"

"Loud and clear, _Miss,"_ he replied sarcastically. He could see now why John was so madly in love with her, even if the man didn't realise it himself at the moment. Calleigh was undeniably beautiful but not only that she was a fearsome women to contend with and someone who would not be intimidated by men or their mistaken notion that they had any superiority over her. It occurred to him that she had more balls than some of the men he'd worked with throughout his career. He might not like her all that much but he respected her enough to be able to lead John's team in his absence, having no choice but to work alongside her.

Kyle looked on, astonished, as Calleigh and the ageing man continued to glare at each other, both of them waiting for the other to look away first. They stared at each other like two bulldogs bristling for a fight, neither willing to give ground to the other. The two of them were more alike than they realised, both sharing the ability to channel that fearsome glare that his father reserved for occasions just like this, he too knew what it was like to be on the end of one of those looks.

The moment was broken by Calleigh's phone chirping insistently in her pocket; not taking her eyes from Andy she pulled it out at answered it in a clipped tone.

"Calleigh, it's Frank. I thought you'd want to know that the BOLO we put out on that SUV has come up trumps."

"You found the vehicle?"

"Yup, in North Bay Village. Just off the JFK Causeway, I've got a tow truck on its way out there as we speak."

"Has it been torched?"

"Looks like it according to the report I got from the officers on scene. We might still be able to get something from it though," he responded hopefully.

He heart sank, any hopes of finding a link to Horatio's whereabouts began to dissipate with the news that the vehicle had been set on fire, destroying what little evidence they might have been able to find. "Thanks, Frank. Keep me posted."

Closing her phone and placing it back in her pocket she returned her attention to Andy, "Eric's on his way back down to the morgue, you can catch up with him there and see if the M.E has anything new to report," her tone signified that it was an order not a request.

"As for you, Kyle, you can stay here where we can keep an eye on you. If you even think of running off on some suicide mission I'll arrest you myself and throw you in lock up. Understood?"

Kyle felt his cheeks flame in embarrassment; he'd grown used to being given orders, both in prison and in the Army, but it felt as if Calleigh were treating him like a child playing truant from school. He resisted the urge to answer her back knowing that the longer he kept Calleigh here arguing with him the less time his father had left. Letting his head hang in defeat he nodded, not looking up at her, keeping his head down until he heard both of them leave the room, only then letting out a growl of pure frustration as he punched the nearest wall.


	78. Chapter 78

Eric found the sulking, rotund figure of Andy Sipowicz stalking down the corridor towards the elevator. "I would say good morning but it doesn't look like you're having one," he said amiably as he pushed the call button.

Andy gave him a sour look in return, "I've just had my ass chewed up and spat out by that….." his anger leaving him momentarily lost for words, "….that woman!"

Eric raised an eyebrow and allowed himself a small smirk of satisfaction that didn't go unmissed by the other man.

"What the hell are you smiling about?" Andy groused as he followed Eric into the elevator.

"Welcome to the club, man," he replied, slapping the man on the shoulder as the doors closed.

Unimpressed by the lack of sympathy he was getting Andy hiked his pants up and huffed loudly, "Who the hell does that broad think she is anyway?"

The smile on Eric's face faltered, "She's the one in charge of this team until we get Horatio back." He tried to instil a sense of conviction into his words, believing that they would find their fallen leader in time was all that mattered at the moment.

"You don't have to like her, Andy, just keep your head down and stay out of her way. You really don't want to get on the wrong side of her," he warned as both men stepped out of the elevator as it arrived at the morgue.

"Looks like John sure knows how to pick the ladies," the older man mused as he shook his head slightly only to be caught by the arm by Eric.

"You know about them?"

Looking Eric up and down he shrugged his arm away, "Please, even a deaf, dumb and blind man could see it. John is head over heels in love with her, you can see it in the way he looks at her. Like some puppy that's just lost its favourite bone."

Andy sighed at the look of shock on the other man's face, "She's storming around the place ripping the head off of anyone who has the misfortune to come near her. Don't tell me she'd act like that for just anyone. He'll, she wouldn't piss on me if I was on fire."

The Cuban felt a sudden urge to defend his former flame's honour, "You're wrong about her, she'd be like this if it was any of the team in trouble."

"You're fooling yourself, kid. There's being focused and loyal to your team but she's going way over and beyond. Way over."

"I know Calleigh and I trust her. I trust her to lead this team and to find Horatio," he replied defiantly even though the seeds of doubt were beginning to take root in his mind before directing his attention to the medical examiner.

"What have you got for us, Tom?"

Pulling himself up from his chair Tom Loman greeted the two men brightly; if he'd heard any of their conversation he showed no sign of it. "Good morning gentlemen, you'll be glad to know that I have just completed the autopsy on the third officer."

"What did you find?"

The medical examiner looked down at the papers on his desk as he checked his notes, "Miss Smith found a .38 round in the second officer, and I pulled a 9mm from Officer Valdez a few moments ago. I've sent both rounds to the ballistics lab for analysis."

"What about the fourth vic?" Andy chimed in, feeling fed up at being left on the side lines whilst his partner was out there and in danger.

"I'm just about to start on him now; it'll be up to you CSIs to find the fourth bullet back at the scene. Now, if you don't mind gentlemen, I have work to do." With that Tom returned to the storage units as he began to remove the body of Officer Peters.

"What do you reckon of the chances of there being four different shooters?" Eric asked as he and Andy made their way back to the elevator.

"Sounds about right, there were at least seven of them in the house. They probably jumped on those poor guys before they even knew what hit them."

Eric could sense the sadness in the other man's voice, "There was nothing you could have done, you know."

"Yes I could. I could have stood up and fought and so could John. Why did he just give up like that, without a fight? That's not the guy I knew."

"The things that happened to him changed him, to him, family is everything. He did what he had to do to keep you safe."

Andy ran a frustrated hand over his balding head, "I saw their faces, they should have killed me after that. Why didn't they put one between my eyes too?"

Eric had a suspicion that he already knew the answer; family was everything to the Malucci's too. Horatio's actions back in New York had torn the crime family apart and now they had come back to return the favour. Their kidnapping of Horatio was not only to physically torture him before having their final revenge; they wanted to make the people he cared about suffer too. By leaving Andy alive it meant that the former detective would spend the rest of his days questioning his own actions and wondering if there was something else he could have done to save him. Physical wounds would heal with time; it was the psychological scars that they would all carry for the rest of their lives.

* * *

"Hey, Wolfe. Getting anywhere with the cash we found at Fuentes' place?" Walter asked as he shuffled his considerable bulk into the lab that Ryan was currently ensconced in.

The smaller man rubbed his eyes in frustration, "None of the bills are sequential, it's a mix of tens, twenties and fifty dollar bills. There's no point dusting them for prints, who knows how many people might have touched them before they ended up in the hands of Fuentes."

"Doesn't mean we can't still track down where the money might have come from," Walter replied, not being deterred by Ryan's pessimistic attitude. "We know that Fuentes was paid twenty thousand to build the bomb, there was a little over eighteen thousand left when I booked it into evidence yesterday."

"So?" Ryan asked as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"So, we do a little digging and see if there have been any red flags raised by banks and financial institutions here in Miami and in New York."

Walter not-so-gently nudged his colleague out of the way to gain access to the lab's computer terminal. "You know as well as I do that banks are required by law to report any cash withdrawals over ten thousand dollars to the IRS."

"I know what you're thinking, Walter, but these guys are smart. They haven't left us anything to go on so far, they're not going to be so obvious as to drain that amount of money from an account."

"True, but banks are also required to report any suspicious activity on accounts too. All we need to do is get in touch with our friends in the Inland Revenue Service and ask for their help, they should be able to tell us if the Malucci's have been withdrawing large amounts of money recently."

Ryan huffed as he ran a hand over the back of his neck, "Why didn't I think of that? I've been doing this job for years, why didn't I see what was right in front of me?" he asked himself in frustration.

"You're being too hard on yourself, Wolfe. Everyone is worried about H; it's clouding your judgement a bit. You're all looking too hard for what's not there."

Ryan gave his much taller and much bulkier colleague a puzzled look, "How do you do it, how do you keep so calm?"

"I haven't known the guy as long as you have," Walter continued quickly as Ryan opened his mouth to say something, "That's not to say I don't care what happens to him, because I do. You've all been this close-knit team; it's kind of hard to break into the little circle you've created for yourselves."

"Look, Ryan, you guys have been some real bad stuff in your time. You're more like a family than you are a team, when one of you hurts you all hurt. Maybe it's easier for me because I'm not so emotionally invested. I know it's hard by try separating your heart from your head."

"That's easier said than done, Walter."

"I know, but right now it's all we've got." The bulky black man took pity on his colleague, "Why don't you go and take a break, get yourself a coffee and something to eat. I'll make some calls and see if we can track down which bank the Malucci money might have come from."

Ryan nodded his head, knowing that the other man was right, perhaps he did need a break and coming back with a fresh set of eyes. He'd spent most of the night tossing and turning, dreaming of what might happen to Horatio. The older man had put his faith in Ryan when no one else would and even though he'd let the lieutenant down on more than one occasion the man always forgave him and took him back under his wing. He had been the one that Horatio had trusted when he decided to fake his own death, there were countless other times that the redhead had showed unwavering trust in him, a trust that he felt he didn't always deserve.

He felt as if he were letting the other man down, when the chips were down Ryan knew that he could rely on Horatio to have his back. Now the boot was on the other foot and he felt himself trying and failing to live up to the faith that his boss had put in him.


	79. Chapter 79

Eric pulled the Hummer up on the road outside Calleigh's house which was still taped off and being treated as an active crime scene. He felt a wave of shame wash over him that he and Calleigh had failed to follow the basics when they had pulled up in the drive yesterday. Such was their focus on trying to find Horatio that they had probably trampled over and destroyed what little evidence the Malucci's had left.

He let his head hang after grabbing his kit and trudging up to the gravel driveway, lifting the crime scene tape over his head and holding it up for Andy to follow him in. He watched as Andy scanned the area intently, aware that this was probably the first time the other man had seen the aftermath of yesterday's abduction. Up ahead were the pooled bloodstains of the fallen officers, each denoted with numbered markers. The scene would have been horrific at any time but it was made worse by the fact that Horatio was still missing.

Eric silently made his way over to the first marker, crouching down he sent a silent prayer up to the Heavens, it might not have been much but he felt it right to show his respect for a fallen 'brother'. Pulling out Tom's report from his case he scanned the notes, looking for the spot where Officer Peters had been slain. His eyes scanned the area as he made his way over to the correct marker.

"The bullet should be around here somewhere, want to help me look?" he asked as he looked over his shoulder at Andy. He could see that the other man was feeling awkward and at a loss as to what to do.

Pulling his hands out of his pockets he replied, "Sure, any guesses where I should start?"

"The bullet was a through and through, maybe it had enough force to lodge in the wall over there," Eric suggested as he began pulling items out of his case.

Andy pulled out his glasses and put them on as he shuffled over to the brick wall of the house a few feet from the front door. Looking intently at the area he silently wondered how anyone could want to be a crime scene investigator, spending hours staring at things in the vague hope of finding some tiny piece of evidence. He was just about to give up and tell the younger man that he hadn't found anything when he caught the sun glinting off of something nearby.

"Hey, I think I found something," he said as he lowered his considerable bulk further down towards the ground.

Eric collected his flashlight and a pair of tweezers as he made his way quickly over, making his way to the wall he flashed a smile at Andy, "We'll make a CSI of you yet," he smiled as he carefully removed the bullet casing from the brickwork. "Looks like another 9mm, we'll get it back to Calleigh and see if she can match it up to anything."

The older man tried to raise a half-hearted smile but he found himself unable to match Eric's level of enthusiasm. He followed the younger man back towards his case and watched as Eric placed the recovered bullet into a clear plastic evidence bag, detailing it before placing it back in the case.

Eric stood to his considerable full height and leant his head towards the middle of the driveway, "It's a long shot but we should probably check for tyre tracks and footprints."

"On a gravel driveway? I'm no expert, kid, but I don't like your chances of finding anything."

Eric shrugged his shoulders, undeterred. "It's worth a shot, it's not like we've got a lot else to go on."

And so Andy watched as the younger man went about his work, looking on as Eric bent down and made moulds and impressions of anything he could find on the vast driveway. He watched as Eric systematically worked his way around the area, photographing and noting anything he found for further analysis back at the lab. He couldn't help the small smile that spread slowly across his face, something that wasn't missed by Eric.

"Something funny?"

Andy shook his head, "Just thinking," he replied vaguely as he shoved his hands back into his pockets. "I can't really see John being a big fan of all this forensics stuff, it's a bit too boring and time-consuming for his style."

"You'd be surprised. Granted, he's much happier out in the field chasing down perps but he's a damn good CSI too."

"You're telling me that John sits in a lab with the rest of you geeks, pouring over tiny pieces of evidence. Nah, I don't buy it."

"Not always, he's built a team that he trusts to do most of the _boring_ stuff in the lab. He much prefers being out there in the thick of it, getting confessions out of perps, that kind of thing."

"Now that sounds more like the John I used to know, I would have hated to be interrogated by him," the bulky man shuddered at the thought at being grilled by his partner, he'd seen the way he'd systematically broke down even the toughest of criminals.

"Me too," Eric agreed.

"I just can't see the guy in a lab coat; he's not a lab rat."

Eric smiled at the derogatory term, "It's a rare thing these days to see him working in the lab but don't let that fool you, the guy's got some serious skills."

"Really?"

"Yeah, H is the guy who taught me everything I know."

* * *

**Flashback. Miami 2001: **

Walking purposefully down the well-lit corridors of the crime lab, Lieutenant Horatio Caine was stopped in his tracks by the receptionist calling his name. Turning to her he gave her a warm smile, "What can I do for you, Janice?"

"There's a gentleman in the waiting area for you, he asked for you by name and said he wanted to speak to you," the dainty receptionist replied a little nervously, only having been in the job for a matter of weeks. She pushed the red plastic glasses further up her nose as she fiddled with the child-like pencil she held in her hands, the fluffy topper flapping from side to side as her hand shook slightly.

Noting her apparent fear he attempted to exude a level of calm that might in turn lessen her nerves, "Did you get them to sign the visitor's log?"

"Yes…..Yes, Lieutenant," she stammered, feeling her heart pounding in her chest as the clear blue eyes of the head of the crime lab regarded her intently and then returned his gaze to the clipboard placed on the counter, smiling as he saw the name of his visitor.

"Good. Well done, Janice. Good work." Leaning over the counter he placed a gentle hand on her shaking forearm and gave it a reassuring squeeze, trying to settle the skittish woman in front of him. "You're doing fine," he told her as he turned away and made his way to the waiting area.

Sitting in a leather chair was a face that he recognised, that of a man who he had crossed paths with a few years previously at a crime scene. He remembered giving the man his card and offering him a place on his team but had not held out much hope that the man would take him up on his offer.

He held a hand out as he greeted his visitor, "Mr Delko, it's a pleasure to see you again. What can I do for you?"

The younger man stood and shook the offered hand, "Remember you told me that if I got the right qualifications that there would be a place for me on your team?" he began hopefully.

"Indeed I do, Mr Delko."

"Well, I put myself through night school and I took the officer's test. I just got my results back; I've been accepted into the MDPD. I start my basic training on Tuesday."

He smiled, genuinely surprised that the man standing in front of him had took his advice. "Congratulations, Mr Delko."

"Is your offer still open?" the other man asked uncertainly.

"Indeed it is. Follow me to my office and we'll get the paperwork started." Horatio stopped and turned to look at his visitor, "You'll need to complete your basic training as an officer first, and then we'll see to your training in the lab. You do understand that you won't be out in the field straight away; you'll be expected to work your way up. Are you ready for that?"

"Yes, this is what I want to do. I'm sure of it," Eric replied as he followed Horatio into his office and sat in the chair that was offered to him.

"Being a CSI takes time and patience, there are some areas of the job that aren't as exciting as what you saw last time we met. You'll be expected to put in some long hours; the starting pay isn't that great either." He met the younger man's eyes and looked at him intently.

"I don't care about the pay, this is what I want to do," Eric replied again, firmer this time.

Horatio's facial expression softened, "Well, I can't doubt your enthusiasm. You'll need a lot of that in this job."

Eric watched as the redhead pulled an envelope out of his desk drawer and handed it to him, "You'll be showing me the ropes when I start, won't you?"

"Some of the time, Mr Delko. All of my CSIs are fully capable of showing you how things work here, get your firearms license and I'll take you out in the field with me sometime. I think you'll enjoy working with the rest of the team, I chose them myself."

"Lieutenant Caine, call me Eric, please."

"Likewise, Eric, call me Horatio," the redhead smiled at him, "Is there anything else you'd like to ask me?"

"Just one thing," Eric began, smirking.

"And what's that, Eric?"

"How are you those sunglasses working out for you?"

* * *

**Miami. Present day:**

"Hey, kid," Andy said as he caught Eric gazing off into the distance. Not getting a response he raised his voice and tried again, "Eric!"

The booming voice of the other man made him visibly jump as he shook himself from his daydream.

"You ok? You zoned out there?" Andy asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

Eric busied himself with placing all of the evidence he'd collected back into his case, carrying it quickly to the Hummer. "I'm fine. We need to get this stuff back to the lab."

* * *

He realised that he must have drifted off to sleep at some point, as he opened his eyes slowly he found himself once again shrouded in darkness the cold air covering him like a blanket and making him shiver. He licked his dry, blood-crusted lips and once more felt the painful thirst gripping his body. He knew he needed water, and soon.

He lifted his tired and aching head slowly as bright light once more filled the room, his ears picking up the sound of the power to the fans being cut as the temperature in the room slowly began to rise again. He heard the door creaking open but refused to look, he was too tired and much too thirsty to put up much of a fight, the aching in his left arm telling him it would be useless to put up any resistance.

He heard the heavy footsteps of someone walking across the room, seeing the outline of a figure as it came closer into his view. A young but heavy-set man sat down on the chair opposite him, mercifully blocking out some of the harsh lighting that was threatening to blind him with its ferocity.

He watched as the man placed a water bottle down by his feet, opening up another and taking a long swig from it. "Mr Kelly, you've had time to think about my offer," he began as he screwed the lid back on the bottle and held it in his hands. "Are you ready to talk yet?"


	80. Chapter 80

The burly man regarded him with a wry smile. Danny Malucci was shorter and much bulkier than his cousin; with a handsome face he gave the impression of being a kindly man, almost. The water in the bottle swished loudly as he transferred the plastic container from hand to hand.

"I can make this easier on you, Mr Kelly. Just tell me what I want to know."

Steel blue eyes met the brown ones of his captor, "What do you want to know?" he scowled as his eyes narrowed at the man in front of him.

"Your throat must be very dry, how about a drink of water before we start?"

He watched his captor suspiciously as he began to open the second bottle of water, removing the cap and throwing it to the floor. As Danny leant over and reached the bottle out to his mouth he turned his head away.

"What's the matter, you don't trust me, Mr Kelly?" his captor asked him, an amused grin spreading across his face. "I can't say I blame you but I assure you that the water is not tainted, would you like me to prove it to you?"

He said nothing as he returned his eyes to the man in front of him, watching as Danny took a long swig from the bottle, "See, it's just water."

He turned his head to the right as he saw the bottle being brought closer to his face again, his movements were suddenly stopped by a hand gripping his jaw tightly, repositioning his head so that he was facing his torturer.

"You will drink," the voice commanded.

Despite the increasing pressure on his jaw he continued to keep his mouth firmly shut, not allowing the other man to force his will upon him. His eyes shot to the right as he heard Danny whistle, moments later two burly thugs ambled into the room.

"Sal, hold his head please," his captor commanded as he felt two strong hands grip each side of his head.

Danny sighed dramatically, "I had hoped that we'd come to an understanding, Mr Kelly. I'm not as big a fan of violence as Gianni, I hate it really," he said as he nodded at the other man to come forwards.

He felt the air rush out of his lungs as he was punched forcefully in the stomach and was unable to hold back the groan that emanated from his lips. Before he had a chance to recover he felt the plastic water bottle being forced to his mouth, choking as the cold liquid filled his throat and made him gag. He struggled to breathe as his head was held back and idly wondered if he'd aspirated some of the fluid. He felt his head being thrown forward again as the two unknown men left the room.

"As you can see, Mr Kelly, I'm not averse to using it when it suits me." Danny sat back down on the chair and regarded his prisoner intently. "Surely you feel better for having a drink, we wouldn't want you to go and get dehydrated on us now, would we?"

The paltry amount of water that he had swallowed had felt glorious to his parched mouth and throat; he couldn't remember a time when such a simple thing as water had ever tasted so good. Unfortunately, more of the water had ended up in his lungs than it had his stomach and he found himself coughing heavily, trying to expel the liquid from his burning lungs, spitting out blood and water from his mouth as he did so.

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the excess water that covered his face, hoping that it had served to get rid of some of the dried blood and dirt on him. He regretted the movement as the room began to swim and a feeling of nausea overcame him. Tired, weak and in pain he was powerless to stop himself from vomiting the tiny amount of water that had made it to his stomach. He tried vainly to move his head far enough to the side but was unable to gain enough distance before his stomach rebelled violently, half-covering him and the floor in bile and water. He coughed weakly as he felt the remnants of his stomach contents dribble down his chin.

"Oh dear," Danny remarked, his voice devoid of emotion. "That's unfortunate, how embarrassing for you, Mr Kelly."

He raised his head to look at his captor once more and tried valiantly to muster a sense of defiance, "What do you want from me?"

"Information, Mr Kelly. You have something I want, and I have something you want. I propose a trade."

He scowled at the man holding him prisoner, "You have nothing I want. Just kill me and be done with it."

"I beg to differ. I want you to tell me where I can find FBI Special Agent Collins."

_What does Collins have to do with this? _He thought, _what could they possibly want with him, surely they knew Collins was the agent behind the undercover operation?_

"I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered as he tried to stall for time, willing himself to come up with a plan.

"I think you do, I know you've been in contact with him recently," Danny replied, keeping his voice level.

"I don't remember," he replied honestly, his last real memory of the FBI agent was a lifetime ago as Danny's uncle and father sent their heavies to do a number on him outside his apartment in Queens.

His captor laughed humourlessly, "Ah, the amnesia. That's quite convenient, isn't it?"

"It's the truth; I don't even know how I ended up in Miami. I can't tell you what you want to know even if I wanted to."

"You know, I won't be very happy if you're lying to me." Danny stood from his chair and pulled something from his back pocket causing the bound man in front of him to flinch ad brace himself for impact.

"How about we play a little game, let me show you something and see if it jogs your memory."

He squeezed his eyes shut as he refused to look at what was in front of him, his heart sank as he heard the familiar whistling noise and then the heavy footsteps of his captor's hired help. He screamed as he felt a hand on his injured left arm, squeezing it tightly as another set of hands forced his head down towards his chest. The pain that shot through his left side made him open his eyes involuntarily before he quickly squeezed them shut again, but it was too late, he had already seen what Danny held in his hands. Suddenly a thousand sounds and images flew through his mind, his weakened and dazed mind unable to put them into any sort of meaningful order. His ears began ringing and he saw spots in his vision before everything once more faded to black.


	81. Chapter 81

Calleigh ran a tired hand through her hair as she sat back on her stool in the ballistics lab, having run all four bullets through IBIS she was frustrated to find that her search brought up nothing useful. There were no matches to bullets logged in the system and the best she could do was narrow down the types of guns that were used in the ambush. So far all searches for registered guns came up empty, knowing that it was a longshot she decided to run a check on stolen handguns in the hopes that something might turn up.

As much as she hated to admit it, she was grasping at straws, the guns that the Malucci's used were likely stolen and not reported, the crime syndicate would have been smart enough to file off the serial numbers of each weapon before using them which made the chances of making a positive match even more unlikely.

The team had gone after crime organisations before and brought them down but somehow this time it was different, this time it was personal. Sure, Horatio had a target placed on his back with every organisation he and the team brought down, the Mala Noche, the Russians and countless other groups that had tried, and failed, to bring him to his knees. The Malucci's had much more at stake than the organisations that preceded them; it wasn't just a matter of pride but a deep-seated need for vengence. The Malucci's had waited eighteen years to exact their revenge on Horatio and she had no doubt that they had planned their operation with military precision, in all likelihood they would be at the whim of Danny and Gianni and would only find Horatio when they decided the time was right.

She couldn't help the feeling that she was just going through the motions, trying to fool herself, that she had done everything she could to save the lieutenant, but with each minute that ticked past the fear that they would not find him in time began to grow. The video she had been sent of Horatio being senselessly tortured ran through her mind and gave her hope that either Danny or Gianni would not be able to resist the urge to gloat once more. She needed a bargaining chip, something that she could use as leverage or at the very least stall for time.

"Are you ok?"

The quiet voice behind her made her flinch visibly; placing a hand on her chest she turned to see who had come to visit her. "Kyle, you made me jump. I didn't hear you come in."

He had the good grace to offer her a shy and boyish smile, an expression that once more reminded her of his father. "Sorry, I got a little bored in Dad's office. I saw Eric in the hall; he said I might find you here."

"I was just analysing the bullets we found," she said by way of explanation.

He didn't miss the sombre tone to her voice, "No luck, I take it?" he asked as he shoved is hands in his pockets.

She shook her head sadly and fiddled with the magnifier on her microscope, not wanting to look Kyle in the eye and admit that she was failing his father.

He walked further into the ballistics lab and stood next to Calleigh, "Something will turn up, we have to hope that they'll slip up somewhere."

"I know, Kyle. I just wish we had a bit more than hope to go on right now."

"We have to keep the faith; Dad wouldn't want us to give up. I know that wherever he is right now that he's not giving up either."

Finally making eye contact with the young man she looked at him appraisingly, "When did you get so wise, Kyle?"

He gave her a sheepish smile in response, "I guess I've been spending too much time around my old man." He shuffled awkwardly and his cheeks flamed a little with embarrassment, "I know it's the kind of thing he would say if he were here right now. I always wondered how he knew exactly what to say to people when they needed it."

"Your father is a special man; they broke the mould when they made him."

Kyle remained quiet for a few moments, contemplating his response. He felt silly for wanting to admit such a thing but threw caution to the wind and did it anyway. "I never knew him for much of my life but I'll remember the first time we met for the rest of my life. He's been the one person that I can always depend on; he was always there for me no matter how many times I screwed up."

Now that he had opened the flood gates he felt himself powerless to stop the words that were tumbling from his mouth. "When I was living in those foster homes I always dreamed about the type of man my father might be, at first I hated him for leaving me but then I began to cling to the hope that he might have left me for a reason. I'd always hoped that my father was a good man, a man I could be proud to call my own. Dad was everything I could've dreamed of and more."

"It probably sounds stupid and lame but to me he's always been a hero, I might not have known him that long but he means more to me now than I could ever tell him. I wanted to make him proud of me, Calleigh."

He looked at her with pained blue eyes, eyes that were glistening with unshed tears. "What if I never get the chance to tell him, what if I never have the chance to let him know how much I love him?"

Her heart ached for him; making her way over to him she placed her hands on his biceps, "He knows already, you'll get the chance to tell him when we bring him home. I give you my word that I will do whatever it takes to get him back, no matter the cost."

And she meant it; she would sell her soul if she had to. Making a deal with the devil was not the ideal solution but the nagging feeling in her stomach told her that she might not have any choice.

* * *

Feeling refreshed from a shot of caffeine, Ryan made his way down to the garage to help Natalia process the burnt-out SUV that had been recovered from North Bay Village.

"Hey, Nat. You find anything yet?" he asked as he shrugged his lab coat back on.

After blowing out a frustrated breath that lifted the long, brown hair lying across her forehead she answered. "Nothing yet. I've been working my way through what's left of the interior. I was hoping we might find a hair or a piece of gum, hell, anything that might give us a clue."

Ryan could tell by the way that Natalia was holding herself that she too felt that the team were just spinning their wheels, no closer to finding their missing leader. Picking up a flashlight, Ryan made his way over to the wheeled trolley and crouched down to lay on it. Getting himself comfortable he pushed himself under the SUV using the burnt out shell as leverage.

"I'm going to check for dirt on the underside, maybe it can tell us where the vehicle has been recently," Ryan responded, his voice muffled as he lay under the vehicle.

He shrugged his shoulders as he heard no response from his colleague and silently went about scraping what he could from the chassis, all the while unaware that Natalia's attention was elsewhere.

**Flashback. Miami 2011:**

Panic began to set in as she thumped at the lid of the trunk that she was trapped in, scraping the skin from her fingers and nails in a desperate attempt to free herself from the sinking vehicle. She had tried and failed to gain any reception from her phone, unable to call for help for herself and the wounded redhead lying on the cold, hard concrete of the pier above her.

_I always knew there would be a risk of dying on the job, but not like this. _Intensifying her efforts to escape she failed to hear the sounds of someone pulling at the rear seats of the car, the rushing water and the sound of her own heartbeat thumping in her ears drowned out any other sounds there might have been.

It came as a shock when she felt the seatback give way behind her, seeing her chance to escape she crawled through the open space as quickly as she could. She caught sight of the dark black pants and shirt of Horatio and smiled at the sight of him, her elation was short lived as she saw the vacant and open-eyed expression on his face, her eyes travelling further down to the bullet wound still leaking precious blood into the water.

It was unlikely that this area of Miami was a haven for sharks or crocodiles but she knew she needed to get both herself and the lieutenant out of the water, and fast. Freeing herself from the vehicle she grabbed onto whatever part of Horatio she could find and swam to the surface with him, both gasping for air as they finally made it.

She was glad to see any sort of response from her colleague, she still had no idea how bad the bullet wound was but judging by the listless way he floated in the water beside her she knew that he needed medical attention sooner rather than later. Adjusting herself to support most of his weight she began making her way to shore, all the while talking to him.

"We're nearly there; we'll get you out of here. Just hold on, Horatio."

He'd stopped responding soon after they had reached the surface, having expended what little energy and strength he had in trying to free Natalia from the sinking car. After what seemed like hours, Natalia and her dead weight finally made it to the shore. Gasping for much needed air, she grabbed her colleague by the shirt and dragged him further up onto the concrete slipway that was usually reserved for bringing boats to and from the shore.

With one final look back she raced to the Hummer which was still a fair way up the slipway, her feet slipped once or twice on the moss-covered concrete but nothing would stop her from reaching her goal. Sopping wet and beginning to shiver from the cold she reached out a shaky hand and opened the driver's door of her department issued Hummer, grasping for the radio on the dash. It took a couple of attempts to grab the handset, when her hands finally found it she clung onto it as if her life depended on it.

"Dispatch, this CSI Boa Vista. I need immediate assistance at the 17th Pier immediately. Officer down. I repeat, officer down."

Not waiting for the dispatch operator to reply, she threw the handset back down and made her way to the back of the vehicle, grabbing the first aid kit and a blanket before running back down the slip towards her fallen colleague who lay on the ground unmoving.

"Horatio, help is on its way," she said as she shook his shoulder lightly. Laying on his right side she could see the blood still leaking from the wound in his abdomen and watched as it mingled and coalesced with the water running down the concrete and back toward the bay.

She tried again to rouse him, "Horatio, can you hear me?" Silence was the only response she received.

She placed a shaky hand on his neck and felt for a pulse which was thready and weak. Bending down to his face she listened for sounds of breathing but could not find any, turning him onto his back she began chest compressions. "Come on, H. Don't do this to me, you better damn well hold on. Help is on its way."

She had no idea how long she had been pumping his chest or the damage her actions might have caused but she let out an immense sigh of relief as Horatio gasped and coughed up vast amounts of putrid bay water. She turned him on his side and stroked his back as he weakly coughed up the fluid in his lungs.

"It's ok, just hold on," she soothed him as he tried to open his eyes, "Help will be here soon."

He coughed uncontrollably and felt the burning sensation in his abdomen once more before the cold water began to sink into his weary bones. He heard a woman's voice above him but it sounded muffled and far away, the edges of his vision blurring alarmingly as he tried to blink away the haziness. He felt a reassuring hand on his back and tried again to get the words out of his mouth.

"I'm sorry," he gasped as his lungs burned for more precious oxygen, feeling his body weakening, he hoped he was looking in the eyes of whoever was crouching over him but in his current condition he couldn't really tell. "Tell them all; tell them that I'm sorry."

Natalia didn't understand what her colleague was saying, figuring that shock and blood loss were taking their toll on Horatio she gently rolled him back onto his back and tore open the first aid kit, grabbing a handful of gauze she held it roughly to his wound and ignored his low groan and wince at her actions.

The blood began to seep through the gauze and as she made a grab for another handful of material from the kit it became apparent that Horatio was bleeding from more than one area. She carefully lifted his shirt and found an exit wound in his side, not as large or severe as the one on his stomach but enough to send a chill down her spine. She grabbed another square of gauze and held it with her free hand. Noticing how hard he was shivering she eyed the blanket by her legs, it occurred to her that she now had no free hands with which to place it over his body. She took his right hand and placed it over the material covering the wound in his side and hoped that he had the strength to keep it there whilst she made a grab for the blanket.

Just then she heard the sweetest of sounds, sirens in the distance and she knew then that the help that they so desperately needed would be with them soon. She began to feel lightheaded as the adrenaline began to wear off, suddenly her vision blurred and she felt herself falling, all the while convinced that she heard someone calling her name.

**Miami. Present day:**

"Natalia? Hey, Natalia!"

Ryan's voice finally filtered through to her conscious mind, she looked down and found him sitting up on the trolley board, a triumphant look on his face.

"I think I might have found something."


	82. Chapter 82

**A/N: Some of you may have noticed that I have changed the rating of this story to M, this is to reflect the violence and the suggestive themes as they are not really appropriate for younger readers. This chapter also contains my first attempt at a sex scene, this is perhaps the closest I will ever get to writing smutfic...**

* * *

_He rubbed a weary hand over his face as he exited the plane that had brought him from Miami to the city of Pensacola. Although the flight had been a short one he still felt bone-achingly tired due to a number of sleepless nights previously._

_Just as he was beginning to feel comfortable in Miami the wily FBI agent Richard Collins had once more shown his face, demanding that he do one last job for him._

_"No, forget it," he said firmly as he folded his arms over his chest in a symbol of defiance._

_"You seem to be under the assumption that you have a choice in this matter, Mr Caine." The insinuating tone in his voice was not lost on the redhead when he called him by his assumed identity._

_"I did what you asked in New York. We had a deal," he growled, wanting nothing more than to rip the other man's head off._

_Collins smoothed his tie out as he sat in the driver's seat of his FBI-issued black sedan, his reluctant companion in the passenger seat. "I can make things very difficult for you; right now I am the only thing standing between you and the Malucci's. I'm sure they'll be very keen to find out who it was that betrayed them and where that certain someone might be."_

_His head shot towards Collins, "You wouldn't do that. They think I'm dead!"_

_The FBI agent picked at lint on his trousers absent-mindedly, "I can easily persuade them otherwise." He let the threat hang in the air._

_"I'm supposed to be transferring to the bomb squad on Monday." It was a lame attempt at an excuse and he knew it._

_"Your transfer is being delayed but as far as anyone at the police department is concerned you'll be reporting for duty."_

_His eyes narrowed at the other man, "And tell me, where will I be going?"_

_He felt the file being dropped on his lap and looked down at it. "Pensacola, I have a little operation that I could use your skills on," Collins replied._

_"And how long will this take?" he asked, resigned to the fact that he was unlikely to get out of it taking part in another undercover operation._

_"That depends on how effective you are."_

_He ignored the other man's deliberate attempt to rile him. "What do I have to do?"_

_"There's a drug smuggling ring in Pensacola, the local drug barons seem to think that the city is less likely to be monitored by the FBI than its more famous counterpart, Miami."_

_"Isn't this a case for the DEA?"_

_"It's a joint taskforce; the FBI is taking the lead on this one. I recommended you to the committee; they're keen to have you on board."_

_He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, "What part are you expecting me to play?"_

_"We want you to infiltrate the drug smuggling ring and give us as much intel as you can on the people behind it. Once you've given us what we want you'll be free to return to Miami for your tour of duty with the Bomb Squad."_

_"I suppose that was your doing as well?"_

_Collins gave him a smug smile, "I have no idea what you mean. You should go and pack, your flight leaves at 10pm tonight."_

_And so here he was, waiting for his luggage to come round on the carousel, cursing the day he ever met Richard Collins._

* * *

_He found himself sitting in a seedy bar, nursing his pounding headache with a double measure of scotch. Gone were the expensive tailored Italian suits that he had gotten so used to wearing, in their place were worn jeans, t-shirts and a faded leather jacket. He laughed inwardly as he told himself that after everything he had done back in New York that it had come to nothing. Collins had promised him that after the Malucci's had been brought down that he would be free to start his life again someplace else. Once again, he'd been foolish enough to listen to the man and once again he'd been lied to._

_"Who am I kidding?" he said to himself as he took another swig of the strong-tasting alcohol. "Did you really think that you could outrun your past? He's got you right where he wants you and he's never going to let you go."_

_He felt sad that the months of effort he had put in to start a new life in Miami had come to nothing, he was once again imbibing in alcohol, something he had sworn off when he left New York. Finding himself once again undercover had raised too many painful memories, the feelings of betrayal surfaced once more and after a number of sleepless nights he found himself slipping back into old ways, using alcohol as a way to numb himself._

_He told himself that it would help to make his undercover identity all the more authentic but in reality he knew that he was only fooling himself, it was easy to see how the demon drink had so easily consumed his former partner and friend, Andy. Pain lanced through his heart at the thought of the older man, a man he considered a father figure to him. Downing the contents of the glass he signalled to the barman for a refill, he would numb the pain one way or another tonight._

_"Why is a good-looking man like you sitting in a bar drinking all alone?"_

_Turning in the direction of the sultry and distinctly feminine voice his face registered surprise as he saw a stunningly beautiful blonde woman dressed in a tight red dress standing next to him. He couldn't help himself; he eyed her figure appreciatively, admiring how her body had seductive curves in all the right places._

_"Are you going to stare at me all night or are you going to buy me a drink?" she purred as she positioned herself on the stool next to him._

_Clearing his throat, he tried to regain some sense of composure, finding her breath-taking appearance more than a little distracting. "What are you drinking?" he asked._

_"Whatever you're drinking," she replied as she gave him a wolfish smile. She licked her finger and ran it slowly around the rim of her glass, eyeing him discretely, He couldn't help but find the movement highly erotic._

_"Do you have a name, handsome?" she whispered in his ear as he felt her hot breath tickle his face._

_"John," he replied, trying to keep his senses about him. The woman sitting next to him was beguiling, something about her drew him in like a moth to a flame, he found himself undeniably attracted to her. "How about you?" he asked as he tried to keep his voice level, feeling a stirring in his loins already._

_"Julia." He had never before heard a name sound so enticing, had he not been in a public place he might have been inclined to take her there and then._

_The logical half of his brain warned him to stop, to take a moment to stand back and think about what he was doing. The other half urged him on, to give into his carnal desires, he'd been alone so long that he had forgotten what it felt like to hold a woman in his arms, he'd forgotten how good it felt to be intimate with someone._

_He'd been undercover for nearly two years in New York and most of that time he had spent alone with nothing more than his memories and crushing feelings of guilt for company. Even after arriving in Miami he had been so afraid to let anyone get close to him for fear of them finding out his true identity. Rather than being forced to lie, it was easier to keep those around him at arms-length, life had taught him that having emotional attachments only led to heartache and suffering. The price he had paid in New York had been too high and he resolved to never make the same mistake again._

_The logical side of his brain was fighting a losing battle, the amount of alcohol he had already consumed that night had all but silenced the snippy voice that was shouting at him to get out of the bar before it was too late. As the voice became quieter he felt his longing to attain some physical gratification growing stronger until he could no longer ignore it. As the drinks flowed he found himself becoming increasingly enchanted by the mercurial woman sitting next to him, matching him drink for drink. He knew he was losing control and yet he couldn't seem to find enough reason to care._

_"How about we have a nightcap at my place?" his beautiful temptress suggested as she leaned over him._

_"That is the best idea I have heard all night," he replied as he grabbed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. "Lead the way, Julia."_

_They had barely made it through the door of her apartment, kicking the door shut with the heel of his shoe he grabbed her and kissed her passionately as he pushed her back against the wall. He heard the breath leave her body as she opened her mouth; he didn't need any further invitation as his tongue began duelling with hers._

_He felt her run tapered fingers across the back of his neck and into his hair and groaned at the feelings of pleasure her movements created. He kissed her hungrily as she began pulling at his t-shirt, trying to divest him of it without breaking contact. He broke away from her with a grunt as he helped her pull the grey t-shirt from his body before assaulting her with another passionate kiss._

_He hissed as she ran her long fingernails over the sensitised flesh on his chest, her hands catching in the light covering of hair. With a deft move borne of experience, he reached for her back and made short work of the dress she was wearing, letting it fall to the floor and pool around her feet._

_He felt himself harden even further as he saw he standing in front of him in nothing but red silk underwear, he heard her gasp of shock as he grabbed her legs and folded them around his waist, carrying her to the bedroom. In one quick movement he had her pinned to the bed with his body, tearing at her underwear like a man possessed whilst she grabbed wildly at the belt on his jeans, undoing it swiftly and then going to work on his button fly._

_Within moments both of them were naked, a blue touch paper had been lit between them, neither able to stop themselves from being consumed by the flames of their passion. Their need for one another carried them through the night and into the early hours of the morning, just as he thought she was sated she would roll back on top of him and demand more, a demand that he was more than willing to meet._

_He fell into a passionate love affair with the mysterious and beguiling Julia, forgiving her of her peculiar and changeable moods, tolerating her erratic actions. He couldn't help but be drawn to her and since that first night they had met, he had known that she had gotten under his skin. Rational thought went out the window whenever he saw her, all it took was one look from her and he could feel himself overcome with a need to be with her. Like a junkie craving a fix, he felt unable to function without seeing her or touching her, the hours they spent apart almost more than he could bear at times._

_The undercover operation became secondary to his relationship with her, he found himself struggling to focus on his task, his thoughts always returning to the insatiable blonde woman who had bewitched him so thoroughly. When things became too difficult he made himself think of her, lying naked next to him in her bed, both panting for breath after another intense bout of lovemaking._

_Had he known that it would be the last night he would spend with her he would have never let her go. _

_Knocking on her door at a little past 8 pm with a bottle of red wine in his hands he waited impatiently for Julia to open the door. After what seemed like an eternity the heavy door opened, revealing the blonde woman standing in nothing but a silk dressing gown with one side slipping from her shoulder._

_"What took you so long?" he growled as he stepped over the threshold, taking her in his arms._

_She threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around his neck, "You talk too much," she replied as she inched closer to his face, "Shut up and kiss me." He obliged her and did as she asked and much more after that._

_He woke the next morning to find her gone, rubbing a weary hand over his face he opened his eyes fully and realised that she was no longer lying next to him. Exhausted and more than a little stiff from the hectic night before, he groaned slightly as he lifted himself from the bed and went in search of his boxers that had been ripped from his body last evening._

_After making his way through and searching every room in her apartment he came to the conclusion that she had left but assumed that she would return shortly. An assumption that turned out to be untrue._

_And so, as he stood outside her apartment for the fifth night in a row he resigned himself to the fact that she had gone, his countless searches for her proved fruitless. As the days passed his involvement in the undercover operation increased until he no longer had the time to spend searching for her, with a heavy heart he gave up all hope of ever seeing her again._

_The loneliness enveloped him like a cold and dark cloud, seeping into his bones and making him shiver. As his shaking increased he wondered if this was how life was meant to be for him, cold and alone._

* * *

The cold seeped further into his bones, chilling him and weakening the little resolve he had left. He was sure he could feel something raining down on him, something cold and wet. He felt a hand slap him sharply across the cheek; he groaned in response and attempted to open his eyes.

"So nice to have you back with us, Mr Kelly," the voice of Danny Malucci hovered somewhere above him.

He shook his head lightly as he felt the water dripping from his nose and chin, as he glanced down at the ground he caught sight of the empty water bottle lying on the floor.

"Sorry about that," Danny responded as his eyes followed those of his prisoner's, "You passed out on us; it was the only way we could get you to come round."

His captor placed the photo back in his eye-line once more, "Right, let's try again shall we. If you want to keep your son safe you'll tell me where I can find Agent Collins."

His eyes widened in shock at the other man's words, surely he would've remembered that he had a son? Danny was lying, he had to be, there was simply no other explanation, his captor was trying to trick him with something that wasn't real.

"I don't have a son," he told his captor defiantly.

"Well I'm sure Kyle would beg to differ, how about we call him and find out?"


	83. Chapter 83

"What have you found, Dave?" Calleigh Duquesne asked as she made her way into the A/V lab with Kyle following closely behind her. She had tried, and failed, to convince the young man to rest and assured him that she would find him if anything happened.

He had given her suggestion short shrift and it occurred to her that Simon was right; the boy had inherited his father's stubborn streak as well as his eyes. Horatio's stubbornness drove her to distraction at times, she remembered with a sense of some guilt and sadness how the redhead had driven himself into the ground with his relentless pursuit of Toller and North, only collapsing to the ground in an undignified heap when both men had been arrested and taken into custody. As with the rest of the team, she had tried to no avail to persuade Horatio to return to the hospital but he had steadfastly refused until he himself had cornered and captured the evil Jack Toller.

She hoped that Horatio was clinging to that stubborn streak now, using all of the willpower he possessed until she could find him and bring him home. He was bruised, battered and beaten; she told herself that the one thing they would not be able to break was his spirit. She silently prayed that she was right.

Dave Benton cast a wary eye over the blonde-haired young man that had followed Calleigh into the lab, unsure of whether he should wait until the other man had left before showing Calleigh his findings. "Uh….would you like me to start?" he asked with uncertainty in his voice, shooting nervous glances at Kyle.

It took a moment for the reason for Dave's behaviour to register in her mind and she put it down to fatigue, she'd spent the best part of the 36 hours with little or no sleep. Looking at Kyle, she answered, "It's ok, Dave. He's already seen the footage."

The lab technician raised an eyebrow but said nothing of Calleigh's surprising admission. Turning his head towards the wall screen he pulled up the video, syncing it to play at the beginning. He cleared his throat awkwardly before beginning.

"The first thing I checked for was to see if the GPS device in the phone had been activated, turns out it had been disabled before the recording was made. The phone is a regular 'burner', pre-paid and unregistered so there is no way to track who it belongs to or where it might have come from. Because there has only been a text message sent to the phone I didn't have much luck in trying to triangulate where the text might have originated from."

"I've done as much as I can with the images, the more I try to expand them the more pixelated they become. My best guess is that Horatio is being held in a secluded building somewhere."

"What makes you say that?" Calleigh asked, her curiosity piqued.

"When I isolated the sound from the images I managed to pick up on at least four distinct sounds." He looked at Calleigh and continued his assessment as he turned back to the screen, bringing up four sound waves as he did so.

"I've played the audio over and over, this is what I heard on the first track," he said as he played it.

"That sounds like running water," she surmised as she unconsciously leaned her head closer to the screen in an effort to pick up as much information as she could.

"That's my guess too. Here's what I found on track two." Again, Dave played the audio clip for everyone in the room to hear.

"Is that a fan humming in the background?"

He nodded his head in agreement and played the third clip, watching for Calleigh's reaction to the voice of Gianni Malucci and the grunts of pain from Horatio as he was held and beaten. She closed her eyes as she heard his agonising scream and the sound of wood hitting flesh, the cracking sound of bones resonating in her ears.

Dave suddenly felt distinctly uncomfortable; he'd been forced to watch the images and listen to the audio of his superior's ordeal over and over during the course of the morning, finding it no less hard than the last time he'd had to sit through it, as he watched the expressions flit across the faces of Calleigh and Kyle.

"I think I might have found something that could help us narrow down where Horatio might be being held. Have a listen to this," he said as he cued up the final audio clip.

Both Calleigh and Kyle listened intently, the latter became the first one to speak and voice his frustration.

"So what?" he said, clearly frustrated at what he perceived as a lack of progress and a waste of valuable time. "All you've got there is some birds squawking, how is that going to help us?"

"Because that is the sound of a Black Rail," the lab technician replied proudly, his smile faltering as he took in the puzzled and unimpressed looks of his visitors. "You commonly find this type of bird in areas of dense vegetation and damp environments like rivers, swamps or lakes. They're notoriously shy birds but they tend to get pretty loud around mating season, that's probably why the cell phone picked up their chirping."

Calleigh brushed a lock of hair back behind her ear, her brain still unable to make the connection. "That bird could have flown from anywhere, Dave; it doesn't really help us very much."

Undeterred by his colleague's negative response he carried on with his analysis, "Would it help if I told you that the Black Rail is a pretty lame flier? These types of birds never stray too far away from home. My guess is that the building you're looking for is near or by a swamp, river or a lake."

"Miami is pretty much inundated with those kinds of things, it still leaves us with a pretty big search radius," Kyle chimed in, glancing from the lab technician and then back to Calleigh.

"But it's more than we had before, Kyle. At least we can discount a fair few areas of the county. Come on; let's put your Army training to good use and see if we can scope out possible search areas."

Although he didn't share Calleigh's new-found enthusiasm, he had to admit that they had just caught their first break. Spending time pouring over maps would help take his mind off of how much his father was suffering.

The two of them were just about to leave the room when the cell phone in question began chirping. Three sets of eyes followed its movements as it vibrated and moved across the table. Dave looked at Calleigh expectantly, waiting for her instructions.

She carefully picked the phone up and read the display, 'Withheld Number'.

"Be ready to trace the call when I pick up," she instructed Dave as he nodded in agreement.

With a sense of some trepidation she opened the clamshell phone and answered in as steady a voice as she could manage.

* * *

"What have you found, Ryan?" Natalia asked as she came back to her senses, trying to rid herself of the feelings of panic that her previous stream of thoughts had created.

He held up the dirt-covered object so that his colleague could get a closer look at it. "Do you know what this is?" he asked her excitedly.

Natalia was in no mood to play a game of 'twenty questions' with Ryan, she sighed in frustration and placed her hands on her hips. "I've got no idea, why don't you just spit it out and tell me?"

"This is part of a shell; I found it by the prop shaft, covered in mud and dirt. If we send this to Travers I bet he can give us an idea of where we might find a shell like this, it should help to narrow down the search radius."

Natalia felt the first embers of hope begin to glow within her, perhaps they were finally getting somewhere with their search for Horatio. "Any guesses what type of shell that might be?"

He looked at the object he was holding between his tweezers and studied it carefully before answering. "It looks to me like a mussel shell, if it is, it would mean that the SUV has spent at least some time in an area that is pretty densely waterlogged. I've seen these shells before, when I've been fishing up near the 'Glades."

"You think they might be holding Horatio there?" Natalia responded as she felt adrenaline begin to course through her veins.

"Don't get too excited, Nat. You can find mussel shells in any kind of freshwater, which still leaves us a lot of potential areas to search." He looked up and saw her crestfallen expression, "The best thing we can do is get this to Travers, maybe he can run a few tests and help narrow down which areas we should concentrate our search on."

* * *

Walter couldn't help the little laugh that escaped his mouth, after spending hours on the phone to the Miami field office of the IRS he'd finally found a solid lead to follow up on. He'd been passed from pillar to post and back again as his enquiry was diverted from one operative to the next, he'd almost given up hope of talking to anyone with two brain cells to rub together when a deep, yet feminine voice came on the line.

"CSI Simmons, how may I help you?" the sultry voice purred at him like a Cheshire cat about to devour a bowl of cream.

"Uh….that's correct, I'm looking for some information on possible suspicious cash withdrawals in the Miami Dade area. I was hoping you might be able to help me."

"Hmmmm, I'm sure I'll be able to...accommodate you. Why don't you lay it out for me and we'll see what happens."

And so the risqué conversation continued, after almost half an hour of double-entendres he'd finally got the information he required, and a possible date to boot.

The minxy IRS agent had informed him that three withdrawals had been made from the Dade Mutual Bank in downtown Miami a week previously. Trying to keep his voice level, Walter asked his new friend to email over the details for the account in the hopes that he would be able to track down the whereabouts of the Malucci's.

Buoyed by a possible new lead and his flirtatious conversation with the IRS agent he pulled out his phone and dialled a familiar number.

"Yeah, Tripp."

Even the grouchy response from the detective couldn't sour his mood. "Frank, I've got a lead on the money we found at Fuentes place. Fancy a little road trip?"


	84. Chapter 84

Andy Sipowicz sat in the corner of the room, steaming black coffee in one hand and a greasy burger in the other, as he watched Eric log the tyre and foot impressions into evidence.

"Horatio would kill you if he saw you eating that in here," Eric said, not looking away from the mould he was carefully removing from its evidence bag.

Andy huffed and took a large bite out of his double cheeseburger, answering with his mouth full of beef, lettuce and cheese. "Well, he can tear a strip off me when he comes back then, can't he?" he replied as a dollop of tomato ketchup began sliding down his chin.

The comment caused Eric to stop what he was doing momentarily; he turned and adjusted the lapels on his lab coat. "You think we're going to find him in time?" he asked, uncertainty in his voice.

He'd told himself countless times that they would find the redhead and bring him back in one piece but with every minute that ticked by he felt his conviction beginning to crumble. It had been a long time since Eric had felt this helpless, remembering all the times that his brother-in-law had his back, he knew he could always rely on Horatio to get him out of whatever mess he'd found himself in. Now was the time to return the favour, but he couldn't help feeling like he was failing the other man, the team had spent the last 36 hours chasing their tails and were getting nowhere fast.

Andy took his time chewing the food in his mouth and took a swig of coffee to wash the remnants down with. "If there's one thing I know about John, it's that he's a survivor. How many men do you know who could pull off what he did back in New York? If that were me I would've probably ended up dead, John's come too far to give up without a fight."

"He's stronger than you think, Eric. No one could have gone through what he did back then without a shit-load of courage. The guy's got balls of steel and right now he needs you and the rest of your team to stop moping and start acting like you know what you're doing."

The shock on Eric's face registered but still he continued, he wouldn't be silenced until he'd said his piece. "You think this is what he'd want you to do, give up without a fight? I've never, ever seen John back down from anything, no matter how many times he's been beaten down he always got back up again, faster and stronger. I thought you lot were supposed to have been hand-picked by him? Looks like he got it wrong."

Andy's next words were cut off as Eric grabbed him roughly by his shirt and pushed him back towards the desk at the opposite end of the room. "You think we're not doing everything we can to find him?" he asked angrily.

"Horatio means everything to us, you think that there's nothing we wouldn't do to find him?"

"If this is your best, John's as good as dead anyway," Andy replied as he stared into the furious brown eyes of the other man, feeling the smack to the jaw before he actually saw the fist come flying towards him, sending him and a numerous  
items from the desk crashing to the floor.

He touched his jaw tenderly as he looked up at the man standing over him breathing heavily. "Now that's more like it, kid," he said as he pulled himself into a sitting position and wiped the blood from his lip. "Now you're ready to _really _focus on finding him."

He pulled himself up into a standing position and found Eric still staring at him, "What are you waiting for? Get on with it!" he said, pointing to the evidence.

An awkward silence stretched between the two men as Eric concentrated his efforts on analysing the tyre impressions he'd lifted from Calleigh's driveway. After scanning the tread pattern into the computer he ran a search for a match to the one he'd found. He kept his eyes on the screen, trying to ignore the sounds of Andy's heavy breathing as he slurped at yet another cup of coffee.

At last the computer bleeped at him, bringing up the search results. Eric read aloud from the screen, "I've found a positive match to a Goodyear tyre with a 16" wheelbase."

"How's that going to help us?"

"This tyre is factory-fitted on Ford diesel vans, the E Series model to be precise. We already know from Travers that diesel and motor oil were found at the scene. This confirms what kind of vehicle Horatio was abducted in. I bet if we run a search for stolen vans that at least one E Series will pop up. If we find where it was stolen from maybe we can find where they're holding him."

Eric ran the search and waited with baited breath, casting nervous glances to Andy who was leaning against a desk at the far end of the room, his arms crossed over his chest and his right foot tapping impatiently on the floor.

Now that he'd had time to calm down, he felt guilty about punching the older man. He'd tried, and failed, several times to find the words to apologise to Andy but every time he opened his mouth the words would not come out.

"I'm sorry," he finally blurted out, unable to hold his guilt in any longer.

Andy snorted at him, "What have you got to be sorry for, kid?"

"For punching you, I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you," he replied contritely.

"Nah, don't worry about it. You hit like a girl anyway."

He couldn't help but raise a small smile at the other man, as rough as their first meeting had been he found himself warming to the gruff New Yorker. Once a person looked past the dour exterior it was clear to see that beneath it was a good man, impatient, tetchy and most certainly fiery, but all in all, a good man.

He knew what he wanted to say but wasn't quite sure of the right way to go about it, throwing caution to the wind, he asked anyway. "When we find him and this is all over, do you think you could maybe tell me what Horatio used to be like back in New York? He's always kept things pretty much to himself since I've known him, he's somewhat of a mystery to us here," he smiled wryly.

"Kid, I could tell you stories about John that would make your hair curl. Are there any good steakhouses in Miami?" Eric nodded his head, "You buy me a slap-up meal and I'll tell you anything you want to know about him. After we find him, deal?"

The computer terminal bleeped before Eric had a chance to answer, "Looks like we've got four possible matches in the Miami Dade area. Wanna come along for the ride?"

Andy stood up and straightened out his clothes that hung awkwardly off of his bulky frame, "If it's a choice between you and that feisty gun lady I think I'd pick you any day. Lead the way, kid."

* * *

He sat with his head bowed, listening as he heard Danny dialling a number. His head shot up when he heard Calleigh's voice answer the phone.

"Ah, CSI Duquesne, I believe. How nice to speak to you at last."

"Where is he you asshole, what have you done with Horatio?" she spat, venom in her voice.

Danny cast a glance to his bound prisoner, "He's still in one piece at the moment, how long that remains the case is up to you and your team."

"What do you want from us, from him? Tell me what you want and I'll get it for you."

"I wouldn't be so eager to volunteer your services, Miss Duquesne. You have no idea what I might have in mind for your beloved lieutenant."

"Have you just rung to gloat, or was there something you wanted?"

"The boy, he's there with you, isn't he?"

"What boy?"

"Don't play games with me, Miss Duquesne; otherwise it will be Mr Kelly who will pay for it. Put the boy on the line. Now."

He sat and listened as he heard shuffling emanating from the phone as Danny held it closer to him. His heart ached to hear Calleigh's voice, the sadness and fear in it was all too easy for him to pick up on.

"Say hello to your father."

Nothing was heard for a moment or two until a shaky, male voice came on the line.

"Dad? Dad, it's Kyle, if you can hear me I want you to know that I love you. We're coming to get you, just hold on!"

He didn't hear whatever else was said, his mind was consumed with thoughts of his son, a son he never knew he had. The logical part of his brain screamed at him not to believe it, that it was all part of an elaborate ruse created by Danny and designed to break him. Something deep inside him knew that this time it was not a trick, that Danny was telling him the truth. He'd heard the pain in the young man's voice, pain like that could not be faked. The pieces began to slowly fall into place, the boy he was standing next to in the photo and the voice that he'd heard, he knew they were one and the same.

Panic surged through him as he realised that his captors knew where his son was, his own experience had taught him that these men would do whatever it took to get the information they wanted. He wished now that he could give Danny and Gianni what they wanted but he knew he couldn't. He cursed his damaged memory, the information that his torturers wanted was locked away somewhere deep within his mind, a place so deep that he couldn't access them. If he couldn't reach deep enough inside himself to give his captors what they wanted he knew that it would be his son that would pay the ultimate price.

And so he screamed, yelling at the top of his lungs as he begged Calleigh and Kyle to get away from Miami, to get away as far as they could. He pulled fiercely at the ropes that kept him bound to the chair, tugging so hard that he felt himself topple over and land heavily on his injured arm. Tears of pain clouded his eyes as he lay helpless on the floor, his fit of anger soon dissipated as it ate at what little reserves of strength he had. He lay, breathing heavily on the floor as he watched the boots of Danny Malucci leave the room, slamming the door shut firmly behind him. The sound of the deadbolt being pulled echoed that of his tortured mind, as it once again retreated in on itself and left him alone in the dark nothingness.


	85. Chapter 85

Taking a deep breath and with a sense of some trepidation, Calleigh picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Ah, CSI Duquesne, I believe. How nice to speak to you at last." The voice was of a man, his Brooklyn accent evident even to her Southern-honed ears. The voice sounded cocky and smug and immediately put her on edge as she spied a quick glance at Kyle, placing the phone on loudspeaker and placing it back on the desk.

"Where is he you asshole, what have you done with Horatio?" she spat, venom in her voice.

There was silence for a moment or two and then a low chuckle, "He's still in one piece at the moment, how long that remains the case is up to you and your team."

"What do you want from us, from him? Tell me what you want and I'll get it for you."

"I wouldn't be so eager to volunteer your services, Miss Duquesne. You have no idea what I might have in mind for your beloved lieutenant."

She could feel her anger getting the better of her, "Have you just rung to gloat, or was there something you wanted?"

"The boy, he's there with you, isn't he?"

"What boy?" She stole another quick glance at the young man, who was currently chewing on his bottom lip and balling his hands tightly into fists.

"Don't play games with me, Miss Duquesne; otherwise it will be Mr Kelly who will pay for it. Put the boy on the line. Now."

She tried to stop Kyle from speaking up but she knew that inevitably she did not have the right to deny the boy a chance to speak with his father. Deep down she wasn't sure if this would be the last time that any of them would get a chance to talk to him.

Kyle took a couple of paces forward, inching closer to the phone with such wariness, as if he were afraid that it would reach up and bite him.

"Say hello to your father," the voice on the other end of the line taunted him.

Suddenly he felt his mouth go dry, his words dying before he had even uttered a sound. There were so many things he wanted to say, things he wanted to tell his father, he wanted to tell him over a beer and a good meal, not like this. He felt as if he were a witness at an execution, the images of his dream assaulting him again, his hands were tied once more and there was nothing he could do about it.

He knew he had to say something and so he said the only words that would come into his head, not caring that they came out as a panicked jumble.

"Dad? Dad it's Kyle, if you can hear me I want you to know that I love you. We're coming to get you, just hold on!"

Again, there was silence. He wasn't even sure if his father was conscious or if he had heard him until his ears picked up on the unmistakable voice of Horatio. The voice sounded tired and weak but was undeniably that of his father. He could hear him shouting, pleading desperately for he and Calleigh to get away, to run away as fast as they could. He tried to tell his father to keep holding on as the voice became quieter and the sounds of footsteps became louder.

All three people in the room flinched as they heard the sound of a heavy, metal door being slammed shut, the shouting dying out into nothing.

"I have to say, CSI Duquesne, that orange really is your colour."

At first the statement made no sense; as she looked down at her blouse the realisation hit her that the Malucci's were still watching the lab.

"I guess you've worked it out by now that I still have people watching all of your team there, and not just from the outside." The unspoken threat left a heavy presence in the room. "You really should take better care of yourself though, try to get some rest. You won't be able to protect the boy otherwise."

"Just tell me what you want."

"I want you to know that I can reach you or any member of your team any time I wish, all I have to do is say the word and my men will make light work of whatever small army you try to put in our way."

"Just try it, you bastard. You'll meet your match in us."

"That I very much doubt. It was almost too easy taking him, you know. A measly two squad cars, is that all Mr Kelly means to you?"

"Just tell me what you want!"

"Find Agent Collins and deliver him to me, we have a score to settle with him."

"And what if I don't?"

"Then we shall take the boy and have a little fun with him, I'm sure Mr Kelly will be much more cooperative when he sees the boy in the flesh. You have twenty-four hours, CSI Duquesne. Use them wisely."

The line went dead; the harsh dialling tone seemed louder than usual in the silence of the room. Throughout the conversation Dave had been tirelessly tapping at the keys of his computer in attempt to lock on to the GPS signal from the phone.

"Did you get anything, Dave?" Calleigh asked as she let out a deep breath.

The lab tech shook his head sadly, "They were able to mask their location, they had the signal pinging off of at least twelve different cell towers. The best I can give you is a rough forty-five mile radius of where the location might be."

"Well, forty-five miles is a lot smaller an area than we had a few minutes ago. At least we have something to work with." She took a long, hard look at Kyle and could see the tears brimming in his eyes as he tried vainly to keep his emotions in check. "It's a start, Kyle. At least we know where we should be targeting our searches."

"We'll never be able to search every building on that scale in twenty-four hours; time's running out, Calleigh." He knew she was trying to remain upbeat and positive but he had heard how weak and tired his father sounded, he wasn't sure that the man could hold on for another whole day.

* * *

He heard the door open again and watched as the footsteps made their way closer to him. Suddenly he found his view of the world turned on its side as he was pulled up in the chair, he felt another wave of nausea hit him but swallowed down the bile that threatened to spill from his mouth.

"Time is running out, Mr Kelly. Or should I call you Horatio Caine?" Danny smirked as he saw the look of shock on his captor's face.

"It would be in yours and your boy's best interests if you tell me what I want to know. Kyle seems like such a nice young man with a bright future, wouldn't it be a shame if that future were to be cut short?"

Panic surged through him, he had no doubt that Danny and his cousin would make good on their threats against the boy he now knew to be his son. He glared at Danny with all of the strength he could muster.

"Tell me everything about your time as an FBI lapdog, I want to know what made you turn on us and I want to know where Agent Collins is. If you don't give me what I want I promise you that I will make your son's death a long and painful one and that you'll have a front row seat to the action."

"I can't… I don't know," he pleaded as tears escaped from his eyes, "I can't tell you what I don't remember!"

"Then it will be the boy who pays for the sins of his father. Think about that, Mr Kelly."

The tears fell as the door was slammed shut again; the room once more plunged into darkness. He was weeping like a child but for the first time in as long as he could remember he didn't actually care. The son he barely knew would be captured by his tormentors, of that he had no doubt. If they could get to him as easily as they had him, then he knew that they would be able to get to his boy.

For the first time in years he sat and prayed, prayed to a God that in his life had shown him little in the way of mercy or leniency. He prayed that God would take his anger out on him and not the innocent boy he had unwittingly brought into the world. It was his penance to pay for his crime, not his son, and he prayed as hard as he could that his boy would be spared.

* * *

Frank and Walter stood outside the opulent building that housed Dade Mutual Bank, even in such a time of austerity this was one bank that did not look as if it were feeling the financial pinch. The white stucco walls housed floor-to-ceiling panes of glass to allow as much natural light as possible illuminate the interior of the building.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Frank Tripp stalked his way into the bank, his eyes scanning for the nearest teller. Spotting an unsuspecting victim he made his way over to a young man with large tortoise-shell glasses that swamped his face. To Frank the man looked barely old enough to drive, the thin moustache on his face seemed like a poor attempt to add a few years to his youthful features.

"How may I help you today?" the man asked as he sat behind a screen of thick plastic.

Frank pulled out his ID as he replied, holding it up for the teller to inspect. "We're from Miami Dade PD; we're looking for some information on a couple of withdrawals that were made from here last week."

The young man frowned, "Do you have a search warrant, Detective?" The geeky-looking bank clerk began tapping at his keyboard. "It is bank policy not to divulge any information of our customers or their accounts, I'm afraid."

Frank could feel his temper rising, he gave a quick look towards Walter before rubbing a frustrated hand over his balding head. "Look, Urkle. We've had information from the IRS that says three withdrawals of just under $10,000 were made here last week; we wanna know who made them and what they looked like."

The fastidious bank clerk sniffed, offended by the detective's gruff tone. "Then I suggest you come back with a search warrant."

"We don't have time for a search warrant, you jumped-up little twerp!" The bank descended into silence at Frank's fiery outburst. He took a few calming breaths before continuing, "We need that information now, our colleague's life is at stake."

"Whilst I sympathise with your predicament, our policy still stands," the teller pushed the glasses back up towards the bridge of his nose with a perfectly manicured index finger. "Come back with a warrant."

_Walk away, Tripp,_ he told himself as he fought the urge to reach through the plastic pane separating him from the insensitive jackass sitting on the other side of it, it was the only thing stopping him from throttling the scrawny little maggot.

He was distracted from his murderous thoughts by Walter calling over to him, "Hey, Frank. Come over here."

The big African-American man had that toothy grin on his face that he reserved for when he'd struck upon something worth following.

"What is it, Simmons?" he growled.

His colleague's enthusiasm could not be dented, "Meet, Rochelle. She and I were having a very interesting conversation," he began, still with the goofy smile on his face.

"We've got more important things to be worried about than your personal life. That buffoon at the counter over there has been yanking my chain for the last ten minutes whilst you've been working on your chat up lines."

Walter's face took on an expression of mock hurt, "You wound me, Frank. Rochelle has been kind enough to print me off a copy of the account records for the suspicious cash withdrawals. She even managed to find us some CCTV footage of the men who made the withdrawal. Isn't that right, Roche?"

The young Caucasian bank clerk returned Walter's smile as she looked at him admiringly. "Anything to help Miami's finest," she purred as she twiddled a finger in her poker-straight brunette hair. The woman was made up to within an inch of her life and yet still had the ability to look alluring; the tightly fitted white blouse that hugged her ample bosom didn't hurt either.

"You've done the city a great service," Walter replied as he maintained the intense eye contact between them, passing the printed images and information distractedly in Frank's direction.

The grouchy Texan swiped them from him, rolled them up before whacking Walter lightly on the back of the head with the papers. "Come on, lover boy. Let's get this stuff back to the station; we need to put an APB out on these images." He huffed as he noticed his love-struck colleague hand a card to the young woman.

"Now, Walter!" he barked as he stood by the door, impatient to leave and get the photo IDs of their suspects released to all local law enforcement agencies and the local news stations.

He shook his head as he saw Walter make a sign for 'telephone' with his hands and mouthed the words, "Call me" as he walked backwards towards the exit.


	86. Chapter 86

He opened his eyes slowly and groaned as he lifted his heavy head from his chest, eyeing Gianni as he ambled closer to him. He closed his eyes with a defeated sigh and waited for the sweet embrace of the dark nothingness to cover him once again.

His wish was denied as Gianni grabbed a fistful of his hair and slapped him twice across the face in an effort to rouse him. "Now, now. No sleeping on the job, Detective Kelly."

The force of the less-than-friendly slapped made his ears ring and caused stars to float across his vision. He was utterly spent, mentally and physically exhausted and he doubted he would even feel whatever torture technique his captor decided to use on him next.

"What do you want?" he croaked as he stifled a cough that began to form in his parched throat.

He raised his gaze as he heard the barrel of a revolver being spun; _They're going to put me out of my misery, at last. _The relief was short-lived as Gianni loaded a single bullet into one of the chambers and spun the barrel once more.

"We're going to play a game of Russian roulette. You have a one in six chance of me shooting you if you don't give me what I want. That sounds like pretty fair odds, doesn't it?"

He said nothing, letting his weary head fall back down to his chest. "Do what you want," he said breathlessly, at this point he knew he was past caring what happened to him.

Ignoring the words of his bound and helpless prisoner, Gianni spun the barrel again and locked it into place, lining the redhead up in his sights as he spoke. "First question, where did you meet Agent Collins?"

"I don't remember," he mumbled, keeping his head down as he screwed his eyes shut and waited for the impact of the bullet in his flesh as he idly wondered how much it might hurt to get shot. He visibly tensed as he heard the hammer being cocked and the trigger pulled, precious moments passed and it suddenly dawned on him that he was still lead-free.

"Why did you betray my father and uncle, how much did the FBI offer you?"

"I told you, I don't remember."

He braced himself again as the sound of the hammer being cocked filled the deathly silence in the room, the noise of the trigger being pulled seemed almost too much to bear. This time he felt the muzzle of the gun pressed flush against his right shoulder and let out a sigh of relief as he was once again spared.

"The odds are getting shorter now, Detective Kelly; I would start talking if I were you. Tell me where I can find Agent Collins."

"I don't know."

This time he felt the gun being pressed on his left thigh, should the bullet be in the chamber he prayed that Gianni hit his femoral artery, knowing that he would be dead in minutes. _Why the hell would I know that?_

Nothing was heard except the click of an empty barrel, three down and three to go. His odds of coming out of this torture session lessened drastically by the minute.

"We know he's in Miami. Tell us where we can find him."

His head shot up this time as anger surged through him, "I told you that I don't know. Why don't you just get it over and shoot me!" he shouted as he began breathing heavily and coughing uncontrollably.

Gianni held the revolver to his temple this time; he prayed that this time it was the kill shot.

"No," he whispered as he realised that he was still alive, his head dropped back towards the metal chair he was bound to.

"Last chance, Detective Kelly. Where is he?"

He felt the revolver being ground into his groin, wincing at the pain the gun was causing to such a sensitive area of his body. "Please, I don't know. I can't tell you what I don't know."

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut as he waited for the searing pain to flow over him, the Malucci's emasculation of him would be complete should the bullet be in the barrel that was currently lined up to fire.

He waited, and waited. Although he heard the click, he was yet to feel the pain of the bullet entering his body. _5 out of 6, _he knew his time was up; the next shot would be for real.

"Gianni, Danny needs to speak to you," a voice called from the doorway.

"Tell him I'm busy," he growled in response as he began pondering on where he would place the bullet in the body of his prisoner, tapping the side of the gun on his chin as he did so.

"He says it can't wait, he needs to speak to you now." The disembodied voice at the other end of the room was insistent.

"We'll continue this later," he told the redhead as he stalked from the room, signalling for the lights to be cut as he left.

* * *

The various members of the team began to shuffle into Horatio's office, having all received the same text message from their temporary leader, they stood to attention as Calleigh entered the room, closely followed by Kyle.

"Thank you all for being here," she began as she stood behind Horatio's desk, trying to exude confidence and professionalism. "I know you've all been working hard on trying to find some fresh leads for us to follow. Let's hear what you've got."

"We processed the SUV that patrol spotted out by North Bay Village and found something interesting on the underside of the chassis."

All eyes in the room fell on Ryan, "I found fragments of a particular type of mussel shell lodge in the rear axle. I sent it to Travers for further analysis."

"Anything useful come back, Ryan?"

"I hope so," he replied as he brought up a picture on the tablet he was holding, showing it to the other people in the room. "Travers says this type of mussel is only found in freshwater lakes, primarily Lake Okeechobee according to the chemical breakdown of the shell. I know it's not a lot, but maybe it's a place to start looking."

Calleigh felt a few small embers of hope begin to ignite within her heart, "That matches up with what Dave told us about the birdsong on the video clip. What else do we have?"

"I took some tyre impressions from the driveway, I didn't hold out much hope that we'd be able to get anything useful but I managed to match one partial to a Ford E Series van. I ran a search on any stolen E Series models; it came up with four possible matches. Andy and I are going to run them down; could we borrow a few uniforms, Frank?"

"Whatever you need, Delko, you got it. Take as many men as you need."

Calleigh cleared her throat to speak," I ran all four bullet casings; there were no matches in IBIS. Looks like they're pretty much a dead end at the moment, I'm waiting to hear back from Mac Taylor at the New York crime lab to see if there have been any guns reported stolen that might match the calibre of the bullets. We're clutching at straws on that front I'm afraid." She turned to look at Walter, hoping he had better news for her.

"We managed to trace the money that was paid to Fuentes to the Dade Mutual Bank, after a little gentle persuasion they were more than happy to provide us with stills of the men who withdrew the money." The large black man raised an eyebrow at Frank who returned it with a scowl.

"I put an APB out on the men in the CCTV images; it's been circulated to all law enforcement agencies state-wide as we as all local and state news broadcasts. If those weasels show their faces, we'll find them."

"Thanks, Frank. I know you and all of your men are doing everything you can."

"Don't mention it, Calleigh. I've got my men working day and night to find Horatio."

She gave herself a few moments to process all the information before coming to a decision. "The Malucci's have given us an ultimatum which means we have twenty-four hours to track them down and bring Horatio back. The best lead we have right now is concentrating our search on the area surrounding Lake Okeechobee. I want you all to follow up on what you've been working on, bring me a solid lead to work with."

Eric waited until everyone had left the room as he stood watching her with his hands crossed over his chest.

"You have something you want to say, Eric?"

"Are you sure that's the best idea, Calleigh? What if it's another distraction meant to send us on a wild goose chase?"

"The evidence is pointing us towards the lake; Horatio's running out of time. We need to do something."

"What if it's not the right move, are you prepared to gamble with Horatio's life, with Kyle's?"

"I don't have any options here, Eric!"

He walked towards her, "There _are _other options, and you just can't see them at the moment."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Look, you've been up for nearly two days straight. You're tired and you're biting the head off of anyone who comes near you. Maybe you need to take a backseat for a while."

"Horatio left _me_ in charge of this team; I have to lead it in his absence. I'm doing the best I can here, Eric!"

"Maybe you're not the best person for the job right now," he suggested, trying to keep the tone of his voice non-confrontational.

"You think I'm not fit to lead the team?" she asked, incredulously. "You think _you _could do a better job?"

"This is exactly what I mean; you're out of control, Calleigh. I just hope you're not making a huge mistake."

"Get out," she shouted as her hands shook with fury, "Now!"

A feeling of intense rage washed over her, with one swift motion she swept the entire contents of Horatio's desk onto the floor. Breathing heavily, she forced herself to get a hold of her emotions, knowing that she still had one more card to play.

Pulling out her phone she stabbed in a number that she hoped she would never have to call again, the sound of the voice on the other end had always put her on edge and left her feeling uneasy.

"Ah, Miss Duquesne, so nice to hear from you. I've been watching the news, it seems as if you have a problem, doesn't it?"


	87. Chapter 87

Calleigh bit on her bottom lip in an effort to keep the sharp retort from escaping her mouth, "Agent Collins, he needs your help."

The voice on the other end sighed dramatically, "We've been through this numerous times before, I gave your friend ample warning to run before it was too late. It's not my fault that he chose not to listen to me."

"He stuck his neck out for you back in New York, you owe him."

"I don't owe him anything, I gave him a new identity and a new start, it's just a shame that your lieutenant has a penchant for being in the public eye. Maybe if he spent less time playing 'Miami's hero' he might not have popped back up on the Malucci radar."

"Listen you little weasel, he's ten times the man you are! If you think…."

Her words were cut off by the FBI agent's sharp reply, "For someone who's begging for help you seem to forget your manners pretty easily. I do not _have _to _do _anything for you and your merry little band of would-be crime fighters. Your friend served a purpose, my business with him is done. Now if you don't mind….."

"They have him, they're torturing him. Don't you care about that?"

"It's…..unfortunate. The Malucci's wanted their pound of flesh, but perhaps if you and your team are as good as you say you are then you'll be able to get to him before it's too late."

"They offered us a proposition, you for him." It was a bare-faced lie, she knew that there would be no way that the Malucci's would let Horatio go but by giving them the heartless FBI agent it would hopefully buy them a little more time to find him.

"That will _never _happen, " he scoffed. "This is what happens when your birds finally come home to roost. Mr Kelly made his choices back in New York and now he has to pay for the consequences of his actions."

"I'd do it, you know. I'd sell you out in a heartbeat if I knew where you were, Horatio is worth ten of you."

"I'm crushed, Miss Duquesne. Really, I am. I appreciate you giving me a heads-up, once I disconnect from this call the number will no longer be in service. I'll be persona non grata until this whole thing blows over."

"I wouldn't expect anything less from a spineless coward like you. When this is over, I'll come for you and I'll make you pay for this," she said, with venom in her voice.

"While the thought of that chills me to the bone, I don't rate your chances of finding me any time soon. Goodbye, Miss Duquesne."

* * *

His head shot up from his chest as he heard the metal door creak open, the noise seemed much louder in the otherwise silent room. He felt relief as he realised that it was Danny and not his crazed and sadistic cousin, Gianni come to finish the game that he'd started.

Pulling a chair close, Danny sat down and regarded his prisoner. "You know, Mr Kelly, I gave your colleagues an ultimatum earlier. It seems as if they have failed to achieve what I asked of them."

He remained silent and continued to glare at his captor. He realised that he had no sense of the passage of time that might have passed since Danny had last visited him, it could have been hours or days since his last 'session'. The lack of natural light in the room had left him feeling disorientated and confused, not helped by the increasing dehydration he was suffering.

"I believe I was quite clear when I advised Miss Duquesne about the consequences should she fail to give me what I wanted. I had hoped it wouldn't come to this but neither of you have led me to the location of Agent Collins and now the time has come for you to pay the price."

Danny pulled a cell phone from his jacket pocket and began dialling a number, casting glances at the man bound before him as he placed it on loudspeaker.

"Yes, boss?" a tinny voice came through on the other end of the line.

"The boy, do you have him in your sights?"

"Affirmative, the little runt is right in my crosshairs. He'll have no idea what hit him; want me to take the hot blonde out too?"

"No leave her; I want to see her suffer too."

"You want me to take the shot?"

"Yes, take the shot."

He realized all too late as the meaning of the conversation sank slowly into his muddled mind as he heard the sound of a gunshot followed by people screaming and shouting. The noise stopped abruptly as Danny disconnected the call; he looked up at his captor, his face a mix of shock and pure terror.

"Was it worth it, Mr Kelly?" Danny asked as he placed the phone back in his pocket. "Was it worth sacrificing your son's life for that lowly FBI agent?"

Panic began to set in as his addled brain started putting the pieces of the puzzle into place, his captor had made good on his threat and killed his son. They had killed an innocent boy whose only crime was being the son of a liar and a coward. If he had not run away from New York all those years ago then he would never have brought his downfall upon his innocent and unknowing child.

There was still so much he didn't know about the boy in the photograph but he was certain that he was his son and now he would never get the chance to make things right with him. He'd stolen the childhoods of his captors when he sold their fathers out to the FBI and now they had done the same to him and had taken their revenge out on his own flesh and blood.

He began pulling violently at the ropes that bound him to the metal chair even though he knew that it was already too late to save the boy. Tears sprang from his eyes as his mind assaulted him with vague images of the young man. He pulled harder in an effort to free himself from the confines of the chair as feelings of complete heartbreak and desolation spilled out of him in an uncontrollable torrent.

He heard Danny laugh as his struggles caused the chair to topple over once more as he landed heavily on his side. The pain his movements caused barely registered as he became overcome by his grief, as the tears ran down his face he felt what little fight he had left in him leave his battered and weary body. They had killed his son; he had nothing else left to fight for.

* * *

Calleigh felt the distinctive vibration of a text message from her phone as she stood staring out of the window in Horatio's office, watching as lab technicians and police officers walked to and from the building, seemingly going about their day-to-day business. Pulling out her cell phone she read the message from Eric.

"Call me." It said.

She reluctantly dialled his number, still smarting from his hurtful words a few hours before and not wanting another run-in with him.

"Cal, is this a good time to talk?"

"That depends, are you going to question by ability to lead the team again?" Her tone was harsh and unforgiving, Eric's earlier words had wounded her deeply and she was in no mood to take any more disparaging comments from him.

"I'm sorry; I was out of line earlier. I just wanted to let you know that our discussions with the owners of the stolen vans didn't turn up much in the way of anything to help us track Horatio's whereabouts down."

"So, we still have nothing then?"

"I'm afraid so. Look, I was thinking about what you said earlier, about concentrating our search on the area around Lake Okeechobee and you're right. Let's play the Malucci's at their own game, get to them before they realise that we're on to them."

She sighed in frustration, "We don't even know if that's where they are, what if we've got it wrong?"

"It's a risk worth taking; it's the only lead we've got at the moment. I say we go all in and hope to God that we're right."

The gambling metaphor wasn't lost on Calleigh and it dawned on her what a horrible job it must be to have to be the one to make the tough decisions all the time. She wondered how Horatio managed to do it, take the gambles and make the right choices so that others didn't have to. _Because he leads from the front, that's_ why. Now it was time to make the tough choice and take the biggest gamble of her life.

"Ok," she said finally, "Get the team and Frank up to speed; tell them we need as many bodies as we can scanning every damn inch of that search radius and get a chopper in the sky if you can. If we're going to do this we might as well throw everything we have at it."

"You got it, Cal."


	88. Chapter 88

After checking her Glock 9mm and the pistol that she carried in an ankle holster a hundred times or more, Calleigh decided that she was ready. Taking one last glance around Horatio's office she steeled herself with the belief that the next time she returned here, they would have Horatio back with them.

Even though every fibre of her being was screaming to get out of the lab and look for him she couldn't quite resist the need to stay in Horatio's office for a few moments longer, as if committing to memory the layout and design of the room should the worst happen and he did not make it back.

_No, you can't think like that, _she told herself. _We're bringing him back. Alive._

Just as she was about to leave the office she heard the familiar ringtone of her phone singing at her, its jaunty tune somewhat out of place in the tense atmosphere.

"I'm just about to head out now, what have you got, Frank?"

"I've got a damn headache and a sore ear, that's what I've got!" the gruff Texan groused as he audibly sighed down the line.

"My damn cell phone has been going crazy since Eric put the word out about arranging a search party. Our office has been fielding calls for the last hour and a half, I've got officers coming in on their days off, guys from the nightshift, hell, even some recently retired cops are pouring in through the doors of the department."

"Frank, you didn't have to do that. I know manpower and resources are tight for you down there. The Captain will have your head when your men put in for the overtime."

"That's the point, Cal, I didn't ask any of them to come in, they volunteered. I've got a hundred or more officers here willing to search all day and night and they've done it off their own backs. I've got sheriffs from all the local towns offering their deputies, search and rescue organisations, the lot. You name it, we've got it."

"But why? How did word get around so quick?"

"Some of them heard it in the department; they told their buddies who told their buddies what was happening and yadda, yadda, yadda. You get where I'm going with this."

"I do," Calleigh smiled as she spoke. It was little wonder that so many people were volunteering their services in the search; Horatio had touched the lives of so many people during his time in Miami and have never once asked for anything in return from them. It warmed her heart to think that so many people held the Lieutenant in such high regard that they would give up their own time to help and try to find him.

Now that the number of people involved in the search had greatly increased it gave Calleigh a renewed sense of hope that they would find Horatio before it was too late. Searching a such a large radius of land would have been next to impossible with only a handful of people, now that they had over a hundred officers and volunteers at their disposal it would cut the search time down considerably.

"Can I leave you to organise the search teams, Frank?" she asked as she held the cell phone to her ear by bending her head to one side so that it rested between her ear and her shoulder, checking her service weapon one last time.

"I'm on it, Cal. Get yourself out to the lake; I'll send you coordinates for your designated search area when you get there."

Taking a final look around Horatio's office, she closed the door, only to be stopped by a clearly panicked Ryan who was running towards her.

"Cal, wait up. I have to tell you something," he said as he stopped, leaning his hands on his knees as he attempted to catch his breath.

"I've haven't got time now, Ryan. I need to be out there at the lake," she responded as she tried to walk past him but stopped as he held a hand up.

"That's what I came to tell you," he gasped between taking huge lungful's of air. "My Hummer's gone and so has Kyle."

"What?!"

"We were in the break room earlier, he told me he was feeling thirsty and asked me to get him a can of soda from the machine. The damn kid must have lifted my keys from my jacket whilst I was out of the room!"

"When was the last time you saw him, Ryan?" she asked, dreading the answer. In a department-issued Hummer, Kyle would have easy access to the vehicle's on-board navigation and radio systems. It was likely that he'd heard the search being organised and had already made his way towards Lake Okeechobee. The boy had at least an hour's head-start on the rest of them, she needed to find him, and fast.

"Contact dispatch and get a BOLO out on your Hummer and get a trace on the vehicle's GPS. Ride with Natalia and track him down, when you find him I want you to arrest him. Is that understood?"

"Cal, that's a little harsh, don't you think?"

Anything Ryan might have said after that was silenced by the fierce glare Calleigh was giving him which made him shrink back almost visibly. "Understood, Calleigh. Natalia and I will head out now; we'll let you know when we've got him."

* * *

"Did you do it?" Gianni Malucci asked as he took a long swig of the bottle of beer in his hand, regarding his cousin with an amused expression.

"I did. The results were…..interesting."

"You got our associate to take the shot?"

"I did. You were right, he's a fine marksman. Put the bullet right between the eyes so I've been told."

"They didn't see it coming?" Gianni grinned as he lit a cigar and blew out mouthfuls of smoke.

"The element of surprise was definitely on our side. It seemed to have the desired effect on Mr Kelly."

"Good, it'll make our final game so much more fun, don't you think?"

"Indeed, cousin. It will," Danny smiled as he took a swig from his own beer and settled back in the comfy leather chair, listening as the sounds of the broken man in the other room slowly faded away into whispers and then silence.

The two Malucci men sat back, enjoying their beers and cigars for an hour or more before the amiable silence in the room was broken by Danny's cell phone buzzing. He picked it up from the table and looked at the display.

"What is it, Sal?"

"We've got a problem. Looks like the cops are on their way down to you, they've got enough people to start a small army. I think you guys need to get out of there and get a head start, you've got maybe two hours tops before they'll be on you."

Danny snapped the phone shut and placed it back in his pocket, "Gather the men, it's time to move out," he told his cousin sharply.

Gianni looked at him with almost child-like disappointment, "But we haven't finished what we had planned for him."

"It can wait until we get on the boat; we need to get out of here before they find us."

"Can we at least have a little fun with him before we go?"

"Do what you like, Gianni. Just make sure you have him in the van when we're ready to leave. I'm going to get everything loaded, meet me there in fifteen minutes."

* * *

He heard the door open slowly and winced as bright light filled the room, he stole a look at the men entering the room with the one eye that wasn't swollen shut. He let his head fall back down to his chest, they had already ripped his heart out by taking away his son, whatever else they had planned for him would never hurt him as much as the loss of his boy could.

He felt the ropes around his wrists being loosened, a while ago he might have tried to put up a fight, there was simply no point now. He felt his arms being pulled and grunted at the pain that flashed through his left arm and shoulder as he was positioned on shaky feet. It had been so long since he'd been in a standing position that it hurt to feel the blood flow back down and through his lower extremities, his legs shaking as they struggled to hold his weight.

"Look at me, Detective Kelly," the voice of Gianni Malucci commanded.

His captor grew tired as he kept his head hung low, Gianni mistaking his lack of movement as a sign of defiance.

"Drop him," the voice commanded.

He could see the dirty, cold floor rushing up to meet him but was powerless to stop himself sinking to the ground in an undignified heap. As the men shouted commands at him to move he continued to lay there, unmoving. He saw the boots of his captor moving closer towards him.

"You know, it's always so much more fun when they scream." Gianni sounded almost disappointed as he commanded his men to pick the fallen man up from the floor and hold him in place.

"It's been a while since I've been to the gym; I think I need to get a little practice in."

The blows to his body and face barely registered as the men held him tightly in place, the pain of flesh and bone being beaten and broken was nothing compared to the pain that lanced through his heart at the thought of his son being killed because of him.

Soon enough, the arms holding him upright let go and he once again found himself falling to the floor as kicks rained down on his back, chest and legs. It seemed like they kicked at him and spat on him for hours, until finally they stopped.

He felt his arms being pulled and let out a half-hearted moan at the pain in his left side as his arms were bound again, this time in front of him. He felt himself being half-lifted and half-dragged from the room, watching in an almost detached fashion the cold floor beneath him as his feet dragged across it.

He felt the pain in his legs as the fabric of his trousers slowly wore away as he continued to be dragged from the building he had been held in. The harsh heat of the Miami sun felt painful on his tender and abused skin but he was not made to suffer it for long as he felt himself being hauled into the back of a van and dumped heavily onto its floor.

He lay there as the boots of at least six men joined him in the rear of the vehicle; they laughed and taunted him as he lay unmoving. Some dared him to get up and fight like a man but he ignored them, he simply had no fight left in him.


	89. Chapter 89

He kept his eyes closed and his face down, listening as the men in the back of the van with him laughed and joked about him as he lay by their feet. Their words meant nothing to him now; he took solace from the fact that they were more than likely taking him to his final resting place. They would finish the job that they had so meticulously planned and dump his broken body where it would likely never be found again.

Had the situation not been so dire, he might have laughed at the parallels between his veiled past and his current predicament, both ending with his death, but this time it was for real.

He heard a voice shouting from the front of the vehicle, "We're about forty-five minutes out from Coral Springs, boss."

Danny pulled the phone from his pocket, "We're on route, Tony. Make sure the boat is ready to leave as soon as we get there."

A burial at sea seemed kind of apt to him, the details of his sordid past along with his body would sink beneath the surface of the water, never to be seen again. He winced as his head lifted from the floor and back down again in a swift motion as the van hit a bump in the road, adding another bruise to his growing collection.

His one good eye travelled down to his left side, gazing at his swollen and damaged arm. It had stopped throbbing a few hours previously and he figured that the blood supply had likely been cut off by the swelling around the bone. He attempted to lift the arm but it was worse than useless as it failed to move at all.

He felt the air rush out of his lungs again as his attempts at moving were rewarded with another swift kick from Gianni. He gasped for air as he felt a rib crack and was unable to stop the paltry contents from his stomach landing on the floor beside him.

His captors laughed as the van took a sharp turn to the right, unable to stop the vomit from rolling towards his face. He simply lacked the energy to move his heavy head out of the way and so he lay in a pool of his own mess, Gianni and his men laughing and taunting him, his humiliation complete.

* * *

It had taken almost three hours to find the warehouse, Eric and Andy had stumbled on it almost by accident and had nearly missed it completely had it not been for the flat tyre that stopped their Hummer in its tracks. As soon as the building came into view, Eric was certain that this was the place that Horatio had been held.

They had searched a dozen buildings just like this one but all of their searches turned up empty. Andy watched as Eric stood gazing at the large warehouse, seemingly in the middle of nowhere.

"You thinking what I'm thinking, kid?"

The tall Cuban turned to look at the rotund man standing next to him, "There's something about this place, something's different about it."

"You wanna go in?" Andy asked as he reached for the small pistol strapped into his ankle holster.

Eric had certainly considered the idea, his initial reaction would have been to run into the building with all guns blazing but years of experience with Horatio by his side taught him that it would likely get all of them killed. The two men would be vastly outnumbered should the Malucci's still be in the building and as much as it pained him to do it, he reached into the Hummer and pulled the on-board radio handset towards his mouth as he requested back up.

Calleigh had arrived shortly after receiving the news over the radio, the tyres of her Hummer screeching along the dry and arid mud outside the building, leaving huge skid marks in their wake. She jumped out of the vehicle with her gun aimed out ahead of her as several patrol cars started pulling up behind her.

"Have you been in there yet, Eric?" she asked as she kept her gun and her eyes levelled at the building.

"No, but believe me, I wanted to."

"Good," she nodded as she began giving orders to the uniformed officers to cover the rear of the building. "Have you seen any signs of movement?"

"None. I've got a feeling that they've already moved on but we didn't want to risk going in without back up."

"You made the right call, Eric," she replied as she gave him a small smile, signalling that their earlier spat was all but forgotten.

"Are you coming?" she scowled at Andy as he stood awkwardly, staring at the dust covering his shoes.

He checked the rounds in his snub-nose revolver one last time before answering. "Does a bear shit in the woods? Of course I'm coming."

The two men searched room by room together whilst Calleigh paired up with a uniformed officer to check the other side of the building, the plan being to meet back up somewhere in the middle. They made their way into each room, guns drawn, but began to give up hope after almost ten minutes of searching and coming up with nothing.

"They're not here kid; we would have found them by now if they were."

The building was big but even Eric had to admit that the chances were that the Malucci's had escaped and likely took their prisoner along with them. _Unless he's already dead._

Andy opened another door without much hope of it holding anything interesting, he flicked the light switch with his gun drawn and was irritated that the lights didn't seem to work.

"Give us your flashlight," he commanded as he held a hand out without looking back. As he walked further into the room it became obvious that they had stumbled onto something.

The light from the torch shone quickly around the room, the beam flitting across something metal in the middle of the room. Pulling the light source back to it, both men gasped in shock.

Sat in the centre of the spacious room was a metal chair with ropes hanging from the back of it, inching their way closer into the room the two men could see blood on the chair itself and the floor beneath it. Eric's training told him that it wasn't enough blood for a fatal wound but certainly enough to prove that whoever's blood it might be was injured and in need of some medical assistance.

"Don't touch anything," he commanded the older man as he pulled his phone out, his gaze never leaving the floor.

Moments later, Calleigh came rushing into the room and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw what the men were looking at as the blood drained from her face.

It took her a few moments to gather her composure, "Have either of you touched anything in here?" she asked as she re-holstered her weapon.

Both men shook their heads.

Using her own flashlight, Calleigh ran her torch quickly around the room before concentrating the beam on the area by the chair. Something caught her eye by one of the legs of the chair, crouching down; she picked it up with a gloved hand.

"Looks like a tooth," she surmised as she shone the light on it, shuddering as she saw the blood and flesh still attached to it.

"Can you smell that?" she asked as she sniffed the air, "It smells like vomit."

Eric felt his heart begin to pound; Horatio was alone and at the mercy of a group of thugs, clearly injured and sick. Although they hand found where he was being held they had arrived too late, they had already moved on with their prisoner in tow.

"Did you find anything on the other side of the building?" he asked Calleigh as he swallowed thickly.

"Only evidence of people inhabiting the building for the last few days. I didn't find any blood or bodily fluids, looks like this was the room they were keeping him in."

"Do you need me to process the room?"

"No, we need to concentrate all of our efforts on finding Horatio. We can assume that all of this trace evidence is from him; we'll tape the scene off and process it later. After we find Horatio."

Calleigh opened her mouth to say something else but was stopped by her phone chirping at her once more, she looked at the caller ID and prayed that Ryan had some good news for her.

"Have you found him?"

"Yeah, Cal. We did," Ryan replied as he let out an exhausted breath. "Patrol spotted him on Highway 21, heading towards the lake. Looks like he heard where we were heading."

"Is he with you now?"

"We and a couple of patrol cars managed to cut him off before he could get too far. He's pissed though; I had to handcuff him to the Hummer. Do you want me to get him transferred back to the department?"

"No, keep him with you. I need you and Natalia back out on the search, we found the building that Horatio was being held in but there's no sign of him."

"Sure, you got it, Calleigh."

"Be careful out there, Ryan. And for God's sake, don't let Kyle out of your sight."

"Understood."

She returned her attention to Andy and Eric as they stood back, waiting for her to issue them with new instructions. Their expectant faces riled her already frazzled nerves as she shouted at them.

"What are you two waiting for? Get back out there and look for him!"

Sensing that now was not the time to argue Eric pushed the other man out of the door and back towards the Hummer as Andy grumbled beneath his breath.

Once back inside the vehicle, the burly man turned to his younger companion. "That broad is on a serious power trip."

"She's under a hell of a lot of pressure, Andy. Cut her some slack."

"So she thinks shouting at us is going to help find John?"

"No, but she's scared, just like we all are."

The older man huffed as he brought stumpy leg up to the dashboard and re-holstered his gun. Eric raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing.

"Any idea where we should start looking, they could have taken him anywhere. Hell, we don't even know if they just dumped the body somewhere."

Eric glanced out of the window as he considered the other man's words, "They must know that we're onto them by now, that's why they've bolted. My best guess is that they'll be heading towards the coast, looking to make it to international waters before we can reach them."

"And just how many coastal areas are there in Miami? I might be from New York but even I know that this whole city is pretty much surrounded by water."

Eric pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, knowing that his companion was right. The Malucci's could be heading to any number of ports or harbours in the Miami Dade area. It would take too long to go through them one by one, by the time they had done, the Malucci's and their prisoner would be long gone.

He looked to the skies for some divine intervention, praying that someone or something would give him a sign.

As if by magic, the radio on the dash crackled into life.

"Patrol 62 to Dispatch. I've spotted a dark blue E Series Van on the Freeway heading towards Coral Springs, the vehicle matches the license plate on the APB."

Eric grabbed wildly for the handset, "This is CSI Delko. Keep with up with the van, we're heading your way now. Whatever you do, do _not _lose that vehicle. Understood?"

The radio unit buzzed continuously as unit after unit radioed in their assistance, turning the key in the ignition, Eric threw the Hummer into gear and sped towards the Freeway.


	90. Chapter 90

Keeping his foot firmly on the accelerator, Eric drove frantically from the rural surroundings of Lake Okeechobee and back towards the Freeway. He kept his gaze focused on the road ahead of him, drowning out the sounds of the radio and numerous patrol cars following behind him. His mind was centred on one thing, cutting the van off before the Malucci's found their way onto a boat.

Andy took a deep breath and tried to hold on to the contents of his stomach as Eric took a sharp left turn at high speed, grabbing at the door handle to steady himself.

"Jeez, kid. You're not going to help anyone if you cause a ten-car pileup. Ease up a bit."

The Cuban kept his eyes firmly on the road as he swerved in and out of traffic, ignoring the rude gestures and the angry honking of horns that his actions created.

"We have to cut that van off. If they get on a boat and into international waters then we'll have no jurisdiction."

"I understand that, but driving like a maniac is not going to help us. Besides, that burger that I ate earlier is really doing a number on me. You really don't want me ralphing in the Hummer do you?"

Andy held his sizeable stomach as if to emphasize his point and smiled as Eric eased off the gas a little.

* * *

"Boss, the patrol car is still on our tail and he's gaining. What do you want us to do?"

Danny Malucci glanced in the rear view mirror before turning back towards the driver. "Slow down a moment, I'll take care of it."

Rolling down the window on the passenger side of the van, Danny leant out and carefully aimed his gun at the tyres of the patrol car. It took several shots but soon had the desired effect when the car span out of control and ended up on its roof, wheels still spinning. He spied two uniformed officers crawling out from the wreckage and took a moment to consider if it was worth shooting them too.

Changing his mind, he rolled the window back up and placed the weapon back on the seat next to him.

The van began to slow further as the driver pulled into the entrance to the Coral Springs boat harbour.

"We're here, boss."

He said nothing as he exited the vehicle and banged on the rear door, signalling for Gianni and the other men to follow suit. As the door opened and the men filed out, Danny took a look at the sorry figure lying bound on the floor of the vehicle and smirked before commanding his associates to bring their prisoner with them.

He felt himself being pulled from the van by his ankles and was unable to stop himself from falling into the cold, wet grass as his body fell to the ground. Voices ordered him to get up but he was unable to, he felt two sets of arms grab him by each side and drag him along towards the docks, his feet bumping over rough stones and steps as the men made their way towards the water.

He didn't even try to lift his head this time, wherever they were taking him, he knew it would be his final resting place and he just hoped that whatever they had in store for him that it would at least be quick.

It felt as if he had been dragged along forever, the pain in his left arm increasing with each second that one of his captors gripped onto it. He had almost become used to the pain, it became tolerable over the aching in his heart when he thought of the innocent boy that his torturers had slaughtered.

A large boat eventually came into view and he could feel himself being lifted towards it as the men holding him climbed the ramp before he was unceremoniously dropped to the wooden deck, falling face-first.

"Where should we put him?"

"Below deck, make sure he's secure before you leave him."

* * *

Calleigh could not believe her luck, of all the days to get stuck in a traffic jam; this had to be by far the worst time. Honking on her horn and slamming her hands down on the steering wheel did little to relieve the feeling of utter frustration that was threatening to overwhelm her. Stuck in a five-mile long tailback in rush-hour traffic was not where she needed to be right now, the longer she spent stuck here, the more time the Malucci's had to make their escape.

The radio once more crackled into life.

"Calleigh, it's Eric. What's your ETA at Coral Springs?"

"I'm stuck in traffic on the Causeway, how about you?"

"We're about ten minutes out. Looks like they got to the patrol car that was tailing them, we've just seen the wreckage on the side of the road."

"Just get there, Eric. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Take a right on 56th and pass through that way, hopefully you'll be able to cut most of the traffic out," Eric suggested.

"Are you sure?"

"Trust me; I drove these routes all the time when I was towing. It'll get you to the harbour in about fifteen minutes."

* * *

"Quit glaring at me, Kyle. I'm just doing my job." Ryan grumbled as he took another look in the rear view mirror of his Hummer, wincing as the young man handcuffed to the rear door scowled at him again.

"You're wasting your time holding me prisoner, if it wasn't for you I could have caught up with them by now."

"No, you could have got yourself and your father killed if you went after them alone."

Natalia jumped in to try to ease the tension between the two men, "Kyle, I know that you're worried about Horatio but running off on a suicide mission isn't going to help him. You need to trust us to do our jobs."

"Why the hell should I trust someone like, Wolfe? I've heard the rumours about him, I'm surprised my father trusts you to shine his shoes, let alone have his back!"

Ryan gripped the steering wheel tighter as he felt a flash of anger surge through his veins. He had long been the subject of many rumours within the department due to his extra-curricular activities and his poor judgement when it came to being fooled by beautiful women.

When something went wrong in the team the suspicion often fell on him and usually with good reason, but the one person who had never lost faith in him was Horatio. It hurt, at first, when the lieutenant only called him by his surname and never his first name. For a long time he struggled to understand why the redhead kept him at arms-length and distanced himself from him.

It became a bone of contention with he and Eric, on a subconscious level he knew that he was jealous of the Cuban's close relationship with their leader and had often longed for some of that friendly camaraderie that they shared. He often felt like a naughty school boy being chided by his headmaster as time and again he found himself in the middle of one indiscretion or another.

He had almost given up hope of ever gaining the trust of Horatio until one night many years ago; he got a call that would change his life and his relationship with the lieutenant forever.

**Flashback. Miami 2008:**

After a long and tiresome day at the lab Ryan had just settled into bed when his phone began vibrating loudly on the wooden bedside table. Throwing out a hand, he eventually grasped the offending object and brought it to his ear, still struggling to open his eyes.

"Yeah, Wolfe."

"Mr Wolfe, sorry to disturb you at this hour."

He immediately sat up straighter in his bed, pushing the covers off his body as his mind became more alert at the sound of the lieutenant's voice.

"What's up, H?"

"There's something that I need to discuss with you, but not over the phone. The matter is…..delicate. Would you be able to meet me in an hour?"

He rubbed a weary hand over his face, "Sure. Tell me where to meet you."

Just under an hour later, Ryan found himself standing outside an abandoned warehouse in the middle of the run-down shipping district, shuffling his weight from foot to foot as he waited for the redhead to arrive. He visibly jumped when he heard the smoky voice emanating from somewhere close.

"Thank you for coming, Mr Wolfe."

He tried, and failed, to locate where Horatio's voice was coming from. "What's with all the cloak and dagger stuff, H?"

It was then that he saw a shaft of light illuminate one side of his colleague's face as he stood side-on, gazing into the distance.

"The situation with Ron Saris is…coming to a head."

"Yeah, I know. I heard him making threats on your life, are we going to take him down?"

"All in good time, Mr Wolfe. All in good time."

His eyes narrowed as he tried to get a better look at the other man, confused as to why he was being called out here in the middle of the night.

"What's this about?" he asked, starting to become uneasy.

"I have a task for you; you're the only one that I can trust to get the job done. Will you do that for me, Mr Wolfe?"

The admission took him by surprise, astonished that the man in front of him actually trusted him. Horatio had given him chance after chance and each time he had let him down, either by making a foolish mistake or being naïve enough to be taken in by the advances of a beautiful woman. There should be no way that Horatio would ever trust him to do anything, let alone have his back.

Whether he wanted to believe it or not, Horatio was asking him for something that he felt he couldn't ask of those closest to him on the team. Time and again, Ryan had let his boss down and yet the man still stood by him and took him back each time as his indiscretions piled up, one on top of the other. Horatio had protected him and asked of nothing in return, until now.

He swallowed nervously as he asked, "What do you need me to do?"

He grabbed onto the side of the metal container he was standing in front of as his brain struggled to process Horatio's request of him. He'd been privy to a number of his lieutenant's cunning plans to bring down his enemies but this one was by far the craziest he had ever heard.

"H…I'm not sure I can do that," he said as he tried to regain a little composure.

"I realise that I am asking a great deal of you, Mr Wolfe, but this has to look real. You're the only one that I can trust to do what needs to be done."

"But why me? Why not Calleigh or Eric?"

"Because I have faith in you, Ryan. I trust you to do the right thing."

It occurred to him then that it was perhaps the first time that Horatio had called him by his first name. Gone was the master and apprentice façade, replaced by two men standing as equals, alone in the deserted area.

If ever there were a time to repay the faith that Horatio had showed in him, it was now. He opened his mouth to say something before quickly realising that the other man had gone, vanished back into the night like some ethereal presence.

He'd always wondered how the other man managed to do it, appearing out of nowhere with feline-like grace and speed with barely a sound being made. It had certainly been the downfall of many a criminal during his years on the team, so many had underestimated the guile of the wily lieutenant and it had proved to be their biggest mistake.

What Horatio was asking of him was immense, he wasn't sure he had the skill or the nerve to pull it off. He needed that sense of conviction that the redhead had, that ability to do what needed to be done, no matter the cost to him.

Horatio had trusted him, divulged his plans to the younger man and placed his faith in him. If ever there were a time to repay the belief that Horatio had showed in him, it was now.

**Present day. Miami:**

"Ryan?"

"Ryan, are you listening to me?"

Turning to face his passenger, he realised that he hadn't been listening to a word she had said in the last few minutes.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"We're nearly there, Ryan. We're about five miles out but that weather does not look good."

He followed Natalia's finger as she pointed out the windscreen, you didn't need to be a meteorologist to know that a storm was coming in and that it was heading straight for Coral Springs.


	91. Chapter 91

The journey to Coral Springs seemed torturously slow to Calleigh but after making the suggested detour she had finally made it to her destination and was greeted by the sight of dozens of department-issued vehicles surrounding the area.

Jumping down from the Hummer, she made her way over to where Horatio's team had begun to gather.

"Any sign of them?" she asked breathlessly as she unconsciously placed her hand on her hip, resting it against her service weapon.

"We've searched the entire area, every vehicle, every boat. There's no sign of them," Eric said as he ran a frustrated hand through his closely cropped hair.

"Have you checked the van out?"

"Yeah, there's blood and hair in there. Looks like Horatio was in the back of the van with them."

"At least it means they haven't killed him, yet."

Four sets of eyes fell on Andy and he suddenly felt a little uncomfortable. "Don't look at me like that," he said as he huffed. "I'm only saying what you're all thinking."

"I spoke to a couple of witnesses who were fishing on the harbour. They say that they saw a group of men dragging something onto a boat about thirty minutes ago."

"Did they give you a description of the boat, Natalia?"

"They said that the men left on a boat called, 'The Devil's Advocate'. We've already notified the coast guard, they should be here soon."

Eric spoke up, "It's likely that they're heading for international waters, as soon as they reach the halfway point between here and Cuba they know that we'll have no jurisdiction. We won't be able to stop them if they get that far."

Calleigh turned to him, "Then we won't let them get that far. I don't care what you have to do, Eric, but get a boat and get out there. Stop that boat before they get away, I'll send the Coast Guard out to help as soon as they get here."

"Calleigh, the weather is getting worse. It looks like a storm is going to hit any minute, it'll be dangerous out there on the water."

"Eric, please, you have to. If they get away we may never get him back."

She looked at him with pleading eyes; he couldn't bear to see the pained look on her face. Nodding, he set his sights to further down the marina and began running towards a man adjusting the mooring ropes on his vessel. He shouted to the man before showing his police credentials.

"I'm from the MDPD. Sir, we need your help."

* * *

Tossed unceremoniously into a small room that housed the mid-sized boat's engines and fuel lines, he took a moment to catch his breath. Every bone in his body ached as he attempted to shift the weight of his bruised and battered body off of his injured arm. With much grunting and groaning, he finally succeeded as he lay on his right side with his hands bound in front of him.

The room was dimly lit, save for the low level lighting attached to the ceiling. The room hummed quietly as the engine kicked in, he heard rather than felt the boat move across the water. He had no idea where they were taking him but presumed that they would dump his body at sea so that no one would be able to find him, _a fitting end to a life of misery_, he thought solemnly.

There might have been a time, many years ago, that he would have tried his best to fight his way out of the compromising position he now found himself in, but not now. Now, he felt broken and defeated, they had taken the thing most precious to him. Life wasn't worth living with the guilt of knowing that he couldn't save his son, a boy who he had no recollection of, yet meant the world to him.

As he lay on the dirty floor, his eyes travelled across the room as he tried to acclimatise himself with his final resting place. His gaze eventually fell on a small package wedged in the corner of the room, nestling tightly against the fuel line.

He squinted as he tried to get a better look at the object, noting the tape wrapped around two clay-like bricks and the steady flash of an LED. With a great amount of effort, he eventually pulled himself to his knees and shuffled over to the corner of the room, ignoring the pain radiating through his body.

* * *

Calleigh tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the Coast Guard to arrive, it seemed like hours since Natalia had put the call in, she sighed deeply in relief when she saw the boat heading towards them. The captain jumped off and came over to the remaining members of the team as they gathered closely together.

"Ma'am, we got here as quickly as we could. What's the situation?"

"There's a boat out there, 'The Devil's Advocate'. They're holding Lieutenant Caine hostage on there; we think they're heading for Cuba. We need to get to them before they reach the cut-off point."

"We'll do our best, Ma'am. Lieutenant Caine is a good man, you can be assured that my men and I will do all we can to bring him back safely to you."

She couldn't deny the sincerity in the captain's voice, Mark Roberts and his team had helped the department on many cases over the years. The captain of the Coast Guard was an amiable sort, laid back with jet black hair and a strong jawline; he looked every inch the model of an all-American man.

It warmed her heart to know how many lives Horatio had touched since arriving in Miami many years ago, the amount of officers who had volunteered to come in on their day off to help in the search told her how highly the lieutenant was regarded by those he worked with. Even though the man might not know it himself, he had been a positive force for so many people, providing comfort or justice in their time of need, she prayed that their goodwill and wishes alone would be enough to bring the redhead back to them safely.

She watched as the men left the marina and headed in the same direction as the boat Eric had commandeered earlier. The Coast Guard boat was sleeker and faster than the vessel that Eric had acquired and would likely overtake him on their way to seizing the boat that Horatio was being held in.

Her phone began to chirp as she watched the boat speed into the distance, grabbing for it absent-mindedly, she picked up without bothering to check the caller ID.

"Miss Duquesne, how are you today?"

Her blood boiled at the sound of Danny Malucci's voice.

"What do you want, where's Horatio?"

The man on the other end chuckled, "Your friend is safe, for now. I propose a trade."

Her eyes narrowed, fully aware that it was likely some kind of dirty trick that the mobster was trying to pull.

"What do you suggest?"

"Gianni and I have had our fun with your redheaded friend. We're offering to trade him for Agent Collins."

"I've told you before; I don't know where he is."

"Surely a woman of your skill can find an old man like Agent Collins. I thought your team were the best that Miami had to offer?"

She ignored his goading, refusing to lose her temper and give any sort of ground to him.

"I need time. You need to give me a chance to track him down and get him here." She was stalling for time and she knew it, she just needed to hold on long enough to allow the Coast Guard to reach their boat.

"I gave you fair warning yesterday, Miss Duquesne. Our boat should be reaching international waters within the hour; you have until then to give me what I want."

* * *

"Damn it, can't this boat go any faster, Eric?" Ryan asked as he made his way carefully to where his colleague was trying to keep the vessel under control in the stormy weather.

"I'm doing my best, Wolfe. The storm is coming straight at us, it's slowing us down." Eric growled, grimacing as he tried to keep the boat sailing in the right direction.

"We're never going to reach them in time!"

Ryan placed both his hands on his head, interlocking his fingers over it, as he kicked out at the side of the boat in frustration. He grabbed for the side of the vessel as a strong gust of wind battered the boat and caused a wave of seawater to come crashing over the side. The strength of the sudden influx of water took Ryan by surprise as he found himself knocked from his feet.

He felt, rather than saw, the lifejacket being thrown his way.

"Put it on, Wolfe," his colleague commanded as he kept his eyes levelled on the waters ahead, "It's gonna get a lot worse yet."

* * *

A quick glance at the package told Horatio all he needed to know, the Malucci's final play would be to blow the boat up and whoever was unfortunate to still be left standing on it. He wasn't sure how or why, but he instinctively knew how to modify the bomb that sat before him.

He took his time assessing the components of the explosives and noted the cell phone wired into the detonator. _They're going to activate it remotely, probably when they know that the right people will be on the boat. _It was a trap, designed to kill him and as many of his colleagues as possible.

Leaning back on his haunches, he took a few moments to decide what to do. He inched his way closer to the device and followed the intricate wires that laced through it as he reached out his shaky hands to it. The pain that shot through his left arm reminded him that he was at a distinct disadvantage, whatever he did; it would have to be one-handed.

It took precious moments, as he struggled with a left hand that was worse than useless, using his right hand to do all of the intricate work. It had taken him more time than he expected to shrug out the belt from his jeans but he thanked God that the Malucci's had left it on him, it provided him with an ideal tool to modify the device with.

He had no idea how long he had sat and fiddled with the device as sweat poured from his brow. The remote-activation device had been disabled and in its place he had programmed the cell phone's timer to begin its countdown, when the alarm reached zero, the bomb would detonate taking him and the whole Malucci organisation down with him.


	92. Chapter 92

"You know they won't give us Collins, Danny."

"I know. Still, it didn't hurt to ask."

"Why?" Gianni asked as he looked out over the choppy waters off the coast of Miami.

"Why what, cousin?"

"Why ask them for Collins when they don't know where he is?"

He considered the question for a few moments, "I like that blonde woman, she's…feisty. I can't help but get a kick out of watching her spin her wheels. It'll make it all the more fun to hear her reaction when we blow the boat and her beloved redhead sky-high."

The younger Malucci let out a smug laugh. "The bomb is in place, you've set it up to blow?"

"Yes. Seems that thug Fuentes managed to keep his mouth shut about the secondary device he built us. It's been primed for remote detonation."

"When are you planning to set it off?"

"As soon as we've made our escape, I'm tempted to tell our man at the wheel to slow down a little to give Mr Kelly's friends time to catch us up. It would be such a shame to waste the bomb on just one person."

Gianni looked down at the rough seas beneath the boat, "Are you sure that little cruiser is going to hold up in this weather?"

"It would be preferable to staying on this vessel when it blows, don't you think?"

* * *

Taking one last look at the bomb, he leant closer to it to check that the timer had been activated. Within five minutes the device would detonate and take him and everyone else on the boat with it, straight into the arms of Hell.

He knew in the back of his mind that there would be no way that he could make it out of the explosion alive, yet something in him urged him not to just sit by and wait for the end to come. Using his good arm, he pulled himself unsteadily to his feet, clinging on to whatever he could find in an effort to keep his legs from buckling and sending him straight back down to the dirty floor.

It took precious seconds for the waves of dizziness and nausea to pass as he held tightly to the railing on the wall. His legs felt as if they were made of lead as he tried to place one foot in front of the other. Eventually he made it to the door, he reached out with his bound arms with his shaky right hand, realising a little too late that his vision was beginning to swim alarmingly.

It took several attempts but eventually he found the door handle and grasped on to it, he held out little hope that it would open but was surprised to find that it did. At last, it seemed as if the Malucci's had finally slipped up, presuming that he was too injured or addled to try to escape.

He allowed himself a small smile as he turned the handle, thanking whatever entity that was looking out for him that they had spared him the fate of being blown into tiny pieces. He hoped that enough of his body would remain intact so that he could be identified and at least bring a little closure to Andy and the team who had tried so hard to protect him.

He poked his head out into the corridor and instantly regretted it as another wave of dizziness shook him. He wasn't sure if it was the rough waters they were sailing on or his own injured brain that was causing his surroundings to tilt wildly on their axis but either way, he didn't like the end result.

The incessant beeping of the cell phone's timer reminded him that he needed to get as far away from the central blast radius as possible. He clung onto the railings in the corridor in an effort to keep himself upright as the boat was tossed mercilessly from side to side in the raging seas. Had he been paying more attention, he would have noticed the blood drops and smudged hand prints that he was leaving all along the walls, providing a perfect trail of breadcrumbs for his captors to follow.

Swallowing a rising sense of nausea, he turned a corner and realised too late that he was face to face with a bulky, heavy-set man who looked less than pleased to see him up and about, roaming the halls of the boat.

* * *

"Walter, please, you have to take these cuffs off me. I need to know what's happening out there!" Kyle pleaded as he pulled on the handcuffs that bound him to the interior of Ryan's Hummer.

"No can do, kid. Calleigh will have my head if I let you get out. Let's not even start on what your father would do to me."

The younger man's struggles ceased as he huffed in defeat. "Will you at least tell me what's going on out there? I can't hear anything from inside this hulk of crap."

Walter took his time, glancing out at the water and the boats that were no more than tiny dots in the distance.

"They have your father on a boat, Eric and Ryan went out to give chase with the Coast Guard not that far behind them."

"They're heading for Cuba, aren't they?"

"Looks like it. Calleigh is throwing everything at this; we'll get H back before they reach the cut-off point."

The large black man wasn't sure who he was trying to convince, Kyle or himself. One look at the dark, grey clouds told him that the storm was picking up speed. He winced as he saw the huge waves crashing not far from the shore, it wouldn't be just a small weather front that would pass by quickly, it looked like a storm of epic proportions was building and heading in the same direction as the boats.

The loud clap of thunder made both men jump. Walter's heart skipped another beat as he felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket; he frowned as he looked at the number, one that he didn't instantly recognise.

"CSI Simmons," he answered distractedly as he watched a flash of lightening fork its way from the heavens and towards the sea.

"Hello again, Walter," the seductive voice purred, "I have information that may be of use to you."

The voice took a few seconds to register in his head; it was the same sultry voice as his source at the IRS who had given him the tip-off about the withdrawals at Dade Mutual Bank.

"Listen, I've been meaning to call but things have been a bit….hectic," he claimed as he tried to dig his way out of a hole with the woman he had charmed less than twenty-four hours ago. He had promised to take her out on a date as a way of thanking her for her help and presumed that was the basis for her call to him.

"Perhaps next week," she replied as she gave him a naughty giggle.

"I ran a number of searches based on the account information that I gave you, pertaining to the withdrawals that were made from the Dade Mutual Bank. I found an anomaly…."

"I don't mean to be rude, but we're kind of in the middle of something major here, Could this wait until later?"

"I thought you would want to know that I found another instance of multiple withdrawals, all just below the $10,000 limit. This time, from a bank in New York. The account holder's details match those of your suspect in Miami."

Walter's lightning-fast mind quickly raced to put the pieces of the puzzle into place. Suddenly, it hit him. He raced towards Calleigh, his phone still in his hand as he completely ignored whatever Kyle was shouting at him.

It took precious seconds for Walter to make it over to her; he stood gasping for breath as walked closer to him.

"Walter, what is it?"

He took another couple of heaving breaths, "I think…I know…..I mean….." he babbled as he struggled to get the words out.

Calleigh had no time for patience; the situation with Horatio was going down to the wire.

"Tell me, Walter," she demanded.

"There was another set of withdrawals, just under $20,000 from a bank in New York, the same account holder details as the one here in Miami."

"What are you saying, Walter?"

"I think Fuentes lied to us. I think there's another bomb, and it's on that boat."


	93. Chapter 93

A fleeting look of surprise crossed the bulky, heavy-set man's face as he found Horatio looking up at him from his slightly crouched position. The look of surprise was quickly replaced with a smug smile as the redhead's opponent sensed his weakness.

He knew the odds of winning a fight with the muscular man were not in his favour, he was bruised and bloodied and could barely lift his own head up, let alone take down at 250lb-plus man. His vision swam again as he narrowed his eyes, trying to make the two figures standing in front of him dissolve back into one.

He barely had time to see straight before a beefy arm shot towards his face, his reactions had slowed during his time in captivity and he only managed to get slightly out of the way before the fist came crashing towards his temple. It was only a glancing blow but it was enough to send him crashing into the wall as bells rang noisily in his head and his vision blurred once more.

He could feel his shaky legs give out as he gripped at the railing on the wall, trying to slow his descent to the floor. He felt strong arms grip him and shove him violently into the wall before punching him in the stomach. Had he been more aware of his surroundings, he would have noticed the blood that rushed to the back of his throat as he coughed uncontrollably at the air being forced from his body.

His punisher seemed angered by being covered in the redhead's bodily fluid and showed his frustration by throwing the injured man to the ground before pulling a 9mm Glock from the waistband of his trousers and disengaging the safety.

_This is it, _he thought as he found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.

He was sure that he could still hear the beeping of the cell phone's timer chirping in the background, although he was not entirely convinced that wasn't in fact the ringing in his ears instead. Time seemed to slow as he cast an eye back up to the man standing over him, wondering which would come first, the blast or the bullet.

* * *

Calleigh threw her cell phone down in frustration after trying, and failing, to make contact with either Ryan, Eric or the Coast Guard to raise the alarm and warn them about the explosives that were likely on the boat that Horatio was being held on.

The storm had meant that cell tower signals were severely interrupted and the further out at sea that her colleagues got, the less likely it would be that she would be able to make contact with them. The chances were that neither Eric, nor Ryan, would hear their phones ringing over the howling wind and driving rain.

Running to her Hummer, she picked up the handset of the radio and re-tuned it, trying each frequency until she finally managed to pick up the signal for the vessel that Eric had commandeered from a bystander.

"Eric. Eric, are you there?"

The radio crackled continuously until finally, the Cuban responded.

"Wea…..ther…..pretty…bad….You….ok?" was the garbled response.

"Eric, you need to slow down. The boat that Horatio is on…there's a bomb."

It seemed to take forever for Eric to respond and at first she feared that she had lost contact with him again.

"Understood…..Calleigh….. We'll be…. careful."

She did the same again to the Coast Guard, not exactly satisfied that she had done all she could to remedy the situation but resigned to the fact that there was little else she could do right now.

She made her way back down to the harbour, standing with Walter, Natalia and Andy as they looked out towards the water, none of them seemingly bothered about the rain and wind soaking and chilling each of them to the bone.

It occurred to her then what a cruel mistress the Miami weather could be, at times she was warm and gentle with her humid temperatures and cooling sea breezes. But at times like this, she would show what a fickle creature she could be as the wind and rain raised merry Hell on the crystal blue waters of the Miami coastline. The city was known for its changeable weather and it added to its charm but its residents knew that she could destroy whole neighbourhoods in one fell swoop should she choose to, and as luck would have it, today seemed to be one of those days.

"How long are you going to keep the in the car?" Andy shouted as he tried to make his voice heard over the fierce wind.

"As long as it takes. We've got enough problems to deal with without worrying what Kyle is going to do next. I'll let him out when we get Horatio back."

Without warning, a thunderous boom filled the air, causing everyone on the shoreline to duck for cover even though the sound had originated from miles away. They all assumed that it was a clap of thunder as dozens of sets of eyes looked to the skies; it was only when a bystander began shouting and pointing into the distance that everyone's worst fears had been realised.

Far in the distance, an explosion of some magnitude could be seen on the water's horizon as smoke and flames billowed into the stormy skies above the sea. The boat that had been holding Horatio and his captors had exploded, of that there was no doubt.

At first, the whole team stood by in state of shock as they watched the flames climb and pieces of smouldering debris began floating back to the water, none of them wanting to voice what they were all thinking. To voice their thoughts would give them validity and no one wanted to admit that what they had just witnessed was real.

Frank was the first to return to his senses, barking orders at his men as he bellowed over the rising winds. Making his way to Calleigh's Hummer he tried to reach Eric or the Coast Guard, hoping that neither of their vessels had been caught in the devastating impact of the bomb's detonation.

He tried several times before he finally raised a response.

"Frank…the boat….it just exploded!" Eric exclaimed as he struggled to control his own vessel's movement.

"Are you hurt, is Ryan still with you?" he asked, ignoring the panicked words of his colleague.

"We're fine. But…Horatio…he's…he was on that boat, Frank."

"I know," he said, trying to keep his voice level. "Can you see anything…any signs of survivors?"

He knew it was unlikely that anyone could have survived an explosion of that magnitude, but he had to ask.

"We can't see anything except smoke. The storm is getting pretty hairy; I can't make out much through the rain either."

"Keep trying, Delko. I'm gonna get hold of the Coast Guard, see what they can do."

It took another couple of attempts, but he finally managed to contact Captain Roberts on the Coast Guard vessel.

"We're doing all we can, Detective Tripp, but the weather out here is pretty dangerous and visibility is poor."

"You need to find him, understand. Do _not _come back in until you find him." He made the statement sound like a direct order but knew that he had no authority over the other man. He only hoped that the years of friendship and goodwill that Horatio had generated with the agency meant enough to the captain to keep his men out there until the lieutenant was found, one way or the other.

"We'll do our best, Detective. The chances of finding any survivors is slim at best, we'll more likely be looking for bodies instead."

"Just do what you can, please."

The team stood around helplessly as the storm worsened, none of them wanting to give up their harbour-side vigil until they had confirmation on their colleague's fate. And so they stood their ground as minutes ticked slowly by, not daring to look at each other for fear of what they would see in each other's eyes. To leave would be to admit that Horatio was gone and none of them were willing to accept that as reality.

The light began to fade as bystanders began to disperse one by one as the action seemed to grind to a halt, the gawkers losing their interest as the dozens of police officers and volunteers stood silently, heads bowed and refusing to move from their positions. The group of 'brothers-in-arms' all but silent as they waited for any sign from the vessels still out in the stormy waters off the coast of Miami.

Even though the wind was still howling, the crackle of the radio in Calleigh's Hummer could be heard over everything else as the team looked at one another. Calleigh was the first to move as she glanced quickly at Frank who nodded wordlessly in response. She ran as fast as her booted legs could carry her and grabbed for the handset.

"Have you found him?"

"I'm afraid not, CSI Duquesne," came the quiet response from Captain Roberts.

"We've been searching for the last 90 minutes but the visibility and sailing conditions have worsened dramatically in the last few minutes."

"But you're going to keep looking, right?"

"I wish we could but I can't risk my men out here any longer. We've already had to rescue your two colleagues when they got into trouble earlier. The storm is making the water too volatile, we can't see anything at the moment."

"No you can't. You have to stay out there, you have to find him!"

"We've found three bodies already; none of them match Lieutenant Caine though. The chances are that we'll be mounting a search for bodies to be recovered, not survivors."

"But he could still be alive!"

"It's unlikely, CSI Duquesne. I can't risk the lives of my men on such a small chance that he could have survived that explosion. I'm turning our boat around and heading back to shore, when the storm has cleared, we'll go back out at first light. We'll do all we can to find him, you have my word."

She felt the radio drop from her hand as the realisation hit her. Horatio was dead; they had been too late to save him. And, it was her fault.


	94. Chapter 94

The team stood by in silence and watched as the Coast Guard boat finally came back to shore. Eric and Ryan jumped from the vessel and back to dry land, both looking waterlogged and defeated.

The tall Cuban walked towards the group of his colleagues, shivering slightly as he pulled the dry blanket he'd been given further round his body.

"There was no sign of him," he admitted as he kept his gaze focused on the ground.

Natalia stepped towards him and rubbed her hand lightly up and down his arm, "You did everything you could, Eric."

The gesture was hollow and they all knew it. Each of them silently cursed themselves for not doing more to rescue Horatio in time. They had all imagined the worst-case scenario but it seemed all the more horrific in reality, each of them hoping that the redhead would appear out of nowhere in his customary way, surprising all around him.

That was never likely to happen again, Horatio had perished at sea, all that was left was to find his body and bring it back home where they could all mourn for him properly.

No one wanted to be the first to move as they all kept their gazes to the ground. Even the usually-vocal Andy had descended into a period of silence. Calleigh couldn't help pick up on the New Yorker's accusatory stares in her direction though.

"There's nothing else we can do here, let's go back to the lab."

The team looked at her in shock, expecting her to be the last person to leave the scene.

"But, Calleigh, what about Horatio?" Ryan asked as he ran a hand through his soaked hair, "We can't just leave him out there!"

"We don't have a choice," she responded sadly. "We have to go back and finish the case, Horatio would want us to do that."

She looked at the team, one by one. "If you want to head home, then I understand that. It's been a long day for all of us. There's nothing that can't wait until morning."

"We have to do this the right way; we need to get justice for Horatio. We owe him that at least."

"That's it; we just walk away and leave him out there?"

"Ryan, we don't have a choice. This isn't what any of us wants but we need to focus on what we can do. Now, if you don't mind, I have to go and speak to Kyle."

* * *

Far out at sea, a body lay unmoving, floating along with the gradually calming waves of the water. Had the body not been draped over a piece of fibreglass debris it would likely have sunk hours ago as the figure floated listlessly.

The body was bruised, battered and unmoving as blood trickled slowly from its nose and mouth, turning the water that surrounded him a pale hue of pinks and reds. Not much remained on the body's clothes and what little that was evident was torn and scorched. The arms of the unmoving figure covered in burns and cuts, along with the one side of the face that was visible.

The storm had almost passed as the waves lost their ferocious power, the body and debris floating along with the movements of the water surrounding them. The water cold and unforgiving seeped further into the unmoving figure, which remained lifeless and still.

"Hey, hombre. ¿Ves eso?" _(Hey, man, do you see that?)_

The Spanish-speaking trawlerman turned to his colleague and pointed out at something in the distance.

"¿Ver qué? Estamos destinados a la captura de peces, sin mirar el paisaje." (_See what? We're meant to be catching fish, not looking at the scenery_.)

"Fuera de allí, hay algo que flota en el agua." _(Out there, there's something floating in the water.) _

His colleague pointed at the water again, insistent that he'd seen something worth investigating.

The man at the controls pulled out his binoculars and focused his gaze in the direction of his colleague's finger.

"Yo lo veo! Se ve como una pieza de un barco, hay alguien que miente en ella!" _(I see it! It looks like a piece of a boat, there's someone lying on it!)_

The fishermen directed their vessel towards the wreckage to get a closer look. Their eyes widening as they saw the lifeless body floating with the fibreglass as they neared it.

"¿Crees que todavía está vivo?" _(You think he's still alive?) _one of the crew questioned as they all leant over the side of the boat to investigate further.

"Sólo hay una manera de averiguarlo." _(Only one way to find out.)_

Using their fishing equipment and team work, the crew finally managed to reach the prone figure and pull him up onto their boat. It didn't take a doctor to realise that the man they had pulled from the water looked dead.

The flesh of the body that wasn't burned, bloody or bruised had taken on an almost bluish tinge as the figure lay unmoving on its side.

One of the crew pulled off their glove and felt for a pulse, not expecting to find any signs of life.

"¡Está vivo! Llame a la Guardia Costera, ahora!" _(He's alive! Call the Coast Guard, now!)_

The captain of the fishing vessel raced towards the on-board radio, almost tripping over some netting in his desperation to raise the alarm.

"Mayday, Mayday! Este es el vaso, Katrina. Hemos encontrado un cuerpo flotando en el agua, que está vivo, pero necesitamos ayuda, ahora!" _(Mayday, Mayday! This is the vessel, Katrina. We've found a body floating in the water, he's alive but we need assistance, now!)_

* * *

The mood was decidedly sombre in the break room as the team converged back at the lab, tired and defeated. Frank had had the presence of mind to grab the bottle of scotch from his desk drawer back at the department and had brought it with him to the unofficial wake being held in their fallen leader's absence.

The big Texan poured each of the team a mug with a shot of scotch in it and handed them out, giving Andy a puzzled look as he shook his head when offered a mug.

"I don't drink," he told the other man. "It's a long story," he added as the detective gave him a puzzled look.

"Man, I never thought I'd see this day," Frank remarked as he took a large gulp of his drink, wincing as the scotch burned the back of his throat as he swallowed it down.

"God, what I'd give for H to sneak up on me right now and scare the shit out of me," Ryan remarked as he took a swig from his mug.

He smiled at the thought of Horatio appearing out of nowhere, seemingly always knowing when and where to appear, usually to catch an unwitting criminal in the middle of carrying out some nefarious deed.

"I always wondered how he did that. How he just appeared at the right place at the right time. I swear, if we put bells on that man we still wouldn't hear him coming."

"I never thought I'd miss being called Miss Boa Vista half as much as I do right now," Natalia mused.

The other members of the group let out a small laugh, their smiles not reaching their eyes or their hearts.

"I never thought I'd miss being glared at," Walter added as his colleagues nodded their head in agreement.

Frank raised his mug to make a toast, "To Horatio, the best of all of us."

Murmurs of the redhead's name floated through the room as each of the team raised their mug and downed the rest of their scotch.

Kyle stood in the corner of the room, glaring at his father's colleagues who seemed to have given up on finding him. It would do his father no use if they continued to mourn him, they didn't even know for sure if he was really dead. It seemed to him as if they had given up and accepted the fact that his father was never coming back.

He could feel the anger threaten to overwhelm him and so he threw his paper cup down and stormed out of the room, heading for anywhere he could find for a bit of solitude. His father's team might have given up on him, but he hadn't.

He stalked through the corridors of the lab until he found himself in his father's office, a place where he had sought comfort only a few short days ago. He had brought himself here to calm down yet he found the starkly decorated room had the opposite effect on him. It occurred to him that there was so little of the man he had grown to know and love imbued in the room that it would be all too easy for another person to inhabit his father's office in his absence.

At a loss for what else to do, he allowed his anger to overflow as he took his rage out on anything he could find. Kicking over the desk and chairs, throwing files and folders towards the windows as he created merry Hell in his father's office, screaming with rage.

Calleigh had heard the commotion from down the corridor and began running towards Horatio's office where the sounds were emanating from. She threw open the door and found Kyle grabbing whatever he could lay his hands on and throwing it across the room.

After a few moments the young man's anger and energy ran out, he stood bent over, hands on his knees as he breathed heavily, gasping as he tried to get more oxygen into his tired and overworked lungs.

As the anger dissipated, it soon began to turn to misery and grief as Kyle looked up at Calleigh with pained eyes, the tears already flowing down his young face.

She did the only thing she could think of, careful of the carnage of the room, she walked towards the young man and enveloped him in a fierce embrace, holding him tightly to her in an attempt to alleviate some of his suffering.

"He's gone, isn't he? He's really gone."

Calleigh felt the tears fall unbidden from her eyes too as she held on to Kyle with all of her might. She kissed the top of his head as she ran soothing circles over his back, struggling to come to terms with her own grief and loss.

"It'll be ok, Kyle," she said as she squeezed him tighter, "Everything will be ok."

She had no idea how she expected the young man to believe her when she didn't even believe herself.

* * *

**A.N: I have a passing knowledge of Spanish but I am not fluent in it. I apologise if there are any mistakes in spelling or sentence structure :-)**


	95. Chapter 95

She held Kyle as he cried for the loss of his father and the future that both men deserved to share together. She held him as his sobs slowly died out and turned into hiccupping breaths. She was loathe to let him go but the cell phone in her pants pocket had other ideas as it chirped continuously at her. She released Kyle with a sigh and answered it with a heavy heart, not bothering to check the caller ID.

"Duquesne," she answered in a defeated tone.

"CSI Duquesne, I've been trying to reach you. I have some news for you."

Her ears pricked up at the sound of the captain of the Coast Guard. "What's happened, I thought you weren't going out again until first light?"

"We received a distress signal from a Mexican trawler boat; they say that they found a body floating in the water. It matches Lieutenant Caine's description."

Her heart sank what little hope that remained of finding Horatio alive had all been flickered out at the captain's news. All that remained now would be to bring the redhead back home to his final resting place.

"Ok, thanks Mark. I know that you did everything you could, where will you take the body?"

"My men and I are just about to head back down to Coral Springs, we'll meet the fishing boat halfway. We'll be taking the Lieutenant to Dade General."

She frowned at captain's response to her question, wondering why they would be taking Horatio's body to a hospital. His place was here in the department's morgue where Tom could treat his body with the proper respect, the respect that Horatio had earned and deserved.

"We'd prefer it if you would transfer his body to our morgue, we like to take care of our own."

"That might prove to be a little difficult; the trawler men say that the man they found in the water is alive. We're heading straight out there to bring him back ashore as quickly as we can, hopefully we'll be able to get him to the hospital in time."

It took a few moments for the information to filter through her tired brain. Kyle turned to face her with a questioning look as he heard her half of the conversation.

"Horatio's alive?" She said it with such uncertainty, not sure whether she was dreaming or this in fact was reality.

"That's what they've told us. The fishermen say that he looks pretty badly injured, I just hope he can hold on until we get there."

"How long will it take you?"

"The storm has calmed considerably but the winds are still high, we're hoping to reach the trawler within an hour."

"Can't you send a helicopter out, wouldn't that be quicker?"

"The wind is still too strong; we can't risk sending a chopper out in this weather. Look, the Lieutenant is strong, he's survived this far. Hopefully he can hang on a little while longer 'til we get there."

"Meet as Coral Springs, we've got a couple of guys trained as EMT's on board. Arrange for a bus to meet us back at the harbour. We'll bring him back as fast as we can."

She thanked God that Eric had decided to return to the harbour earlier and prayed that he was still in the area.

"Eric's down there already, can you pick him up before you head out to meet the boat. I want to have someone there when you find Horatio."

"As long as he's fit and ready to go as soon as we get there, we've got no time to waste on this one."

* * *

The call from Calleigh had come as somewhat of a surprise, but not an unwelcomed one. He'd had to ask her to repeat the news several times before it had begun to register in his mind.

He'd returned to the harbour an hour or so previously with no idea as to why he had come or what his visit would achieve. He sat in his Hummer as he watched the storm slowly abate, looking on as the waves crashed ever more sedately to the shore once more. The impromptu wake at the lab had been awkward and uncomfortable for all involved and he couldn't face sitting around wallowing with his colleagues and so he'd left. Picking up his keys, he exited the break room and headed for the parking lot with no idea where he might go.

He'd driven aimlessly for a while and somehow found himself back at Coral Springs, a place that would forever more signify one of the worst days of his life. The day that he had lost his brother-in-law and close friend, a day that Horatio had needed his team to be there for him, it was a day that they had all failed him.

He shook those thoughts from his mind as he stood on the deck of the Coast Guard ship as he gazed once more through his binoculars, looking for any sign of the trawler boat. A few stray pieces of debris floated over the water, more than likely from the vessel that Horatio had been held on, along with various disembodied human remains.

_Good, serves those punks right, _Eric mused as he watched a crewman hook another limb from the water. He was glad that no other survivors had been found, the Malucci's had ended up being the victims of their own particular brand of justice. At least the team could now concentrate on bringing Horatio home and to support him to move on with what was left of his shattered life.

Broken bones could be fixed, the complex relationships of the redhead's past were another matter entirely. Horatio had been forced into doing things that no good man should ever have had to do; he'd been made to leave behind his friends and family in order to protect them even though it made them hate him. He had sacrificed his life and happiness so that others would be spared their own and he had done it without breathing a word to another living soul.

He found it hard to imagine what his brother-in-law had been through back in those dark days in New York, to be forced to turn his back on everything he knew and loved and to start all over again in Miami. He couldn't believe that Horatio would for one minute ever think that he and the rest of the team would turn their backs on him once they knew the truth about his past. In fact, it made the team admire their stoic leader all the more, that he would willingly sacrifice himself for others and the greater good.

Of course, every member of the team already knew the kind of man their leader was. They could all reel off a number of examples when Horatio had risked his own life to help save those of his colleagues. Day after day, the redhead had run head-first into dangerous situations with little or no thought to his own personal safety and for the most part remained relatively unscathed. Until now.

The Coast Guard vessel finally reached the meeting point with the fishing trawler; Eric grabbed a lifejacket and jumped down onto the rickety wooden boat along with the EMT crewmen. He ignored the looks and hushed conversations of the trawler's crew as he followed the EMT's towards what looked like a bundle of blankets at the far end of the boat.

He felt his mouth go dry as he saw Horatio lying lifelessly on the floor, watching as one of the EMT's removed the blankets and did a quick cursory inspection of his patient. Eric winced as he saw the bruised and battered body of the redhead and gulped deeply when he saw the cuts and burns marring the man's face, arms and chest.

The EMT crouched beside Horatio looked up to his colleague and frowned.

"Tony, we need to get him on the stretcher ASAP and back on ship."

The other man nodded and began helping his partner lift and cover the injured man onto the stretcher.

"Is there anything I can do?" Eric asked as he ran a hand through his cropped hair. He felt useless, just standing back and watching. He wanted to do something, he wanted to help.

One of the EMT's took pity on him and through him their pack of medical equipment as he caught it in both hands.

"Carry the bag back; we're going to have our hands full with your colleague here."

It took precious moments, but finally Horatio had been transferred back onto the Coast Guard vessel and was now in the relatively dry and warm surroundings in the bowels of the boat as the two EMT's began working quickly on the silent redhead.

He watched on in shock as they cut Horatio's clothes away and rolled him to one side to remove the last vestiges of fabric from his body. Eric couldn't help the small gasp that escaped his lips as he saw the raw, bleeding and burnt skin of the other man's back.

"Won't he be cold like that?" he asked as he watched the two men go about their job.

"He's hypothermic already and the soaking wet clothes aren't helping. We're going to wrap him in thermal blankets as soon as we can get a couple of lines in and get some IVs going."

"He'll be ok though, won't he?"

One of the men looked up as his partner tried several times to find a suitable vein to get a line of fluids going.

"I won't lie to you; it's not looking great at the moment. He's barely breathing and it sounds as though he's aspirated a fair amount of water. On top of that, he seems to be severely dehydrated which is why Tony's having so much trouble trying to get a line in. The best we can do is try to keep him stable until we get back to shore.

It turned out to be one of the longest journeys of Eric's life as he watched the Coast Guard crewmen do everything they could to help Horatio survive until they reached Coral Springs. One look at the unmoving man in front of him told him that his brother-in-law's chances of survival were less than guaranteed.

The man was barely breathing and every time he heard the ailing man take a breath he could hear the rattle of fluid in his overworked lungs. Horatio's face was ashen, his lips and extremities taking on a bluish tinge as he lay lifeless on the stretcher.

Eric had never been so glad to see the team and the waiting bus as the boat finally rested at the harbour. There was a flurry of activity as paramedics and the Coast Guard EMTs began relaying information back and forth as they hurriedly removed Horatio from the boat and into the back of a waiting ambulance.

He ignored the concerned questions of his colleagues as he climbed in the back of the ambulance with the redhead, determined to stay with him until he was certain that his close friend would survive.


	96. Chapter 96

The journey to the hospital seemed to last forever as Eric sat on the opposite side of the ambulance watching the paramedic work hurriedly on his fallen friend, all the while hearing the sirens of his colleague's vehicles providing a speedy escort for the ambulance.

He let out a small sigh of relief, it was still early morning and traffic would be minimal at this hour anyway, but he felt better for knowing that Calleigh's Hummer, along with those of their colleagues would be carving a route straight to the hospital that would enable them to get there as quickly as possible.

It only took one look back to Horatio to realise that for all their effort it might prove to be too late to save the redhead. He watched as the paramedic attached wires to his friend's bare chest and frowned as he saw the unstable readings on the monitors, it didn't take a doctor to realise that the man on the stretcher was barely hanging on.

The paramedic shook his head and hung another bag of fluid over the stretcher, trying to physically force the ailing redhead's blood pressure back up. Eric had never felt so helpless in his life; there was simply nothing he could do to help Horatio now. All he could do was sit back and pray that fate was on their side.

The sight of Horatio's eyes flickering took both Eric and the paramedic by surprise as a soft groan emanated from the man on the stretcher. Eric closed the short distance and placed his head in his brother-in-law's line of vision. He wasn't even sure that the redhead could see him or understand him, but he had to try.

"H, it's me, Eric. We've got you; you're going to be ok. You hear me?

He looked down, trying to find an undamaged portion of Horatio's body to take hold of and squeeze reassuringly. He finally settled on touching the other man's right shoulder which for the most part looked relatively wound-free.

He found himself barged out of the way as the one eye that wasn't swollen shut opened in a panicked and wide-eyed stare. He could hear the gurgling noises that Horatio was making from the other side of the ambulance as the redhead began gasping and choking, trying to get air into his lungs.

"Roy, you need to step on it. I don't think he's going to last much longer," the paramedic called out to his colleague who was driving the vehicle.

"We're about two minutes out, the ER team are ready and standing by."

Eric sat back and watched as the paramedic placed an oxygen mask over his friend's face in an effort to help his breathing but it seemed to have little effect as the monitor recording Horatio's vitals beeped more erratically as each moment ticked by.

He had to brace himself as the ambulance skidded to a stop outside the hospital, grabbing onto the shelving at his side in an attempt to stop himself from falling. He'd barely had time to right himself before the doors were opened and hospital staff began swarming the area.

His eyes met those of a familiar face as he saw Alexx Woods leading the ER team. He didn't miss the way her eyes widened in alarm as she saw who was lying on the stretcher. It took her a few moments before she began shouting commands at her colleagues as she ran alongside the stretcher as it was taken into the hospital.

She gave Eric a quick glance, "We'll do everything we can, sugar. I promise you."

And with that she was gone.

"Eric?"

"Eric?"

Finally, he looked up into the soft green eyes of his colleague and gave her a shaky smile.

"You ok, Eric?"

"Yeah, I think so….I'm not sure."

"He's tough, he'll be ok."

He looked at her with pained eyes, "You don't know that, Cal. You didn't see what he looked like."

"He's made it this far, he's not going to give up now." The words sounded hollow, even to her own ears.

The two of them walked in silence into the ER waiting room, joining their colleagues along with Kyle and Andy who were sitting next to each other, talking quietly. Everyone stopped whatever they were doing and looked up at them.

"How's Horatio?" Natalia asked nervously.

Eric pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration and fatigue. "He was alive when they got him here, barely."

He saw Kyle flinch at his blunt assessment of the situation.

"Alexx was here when they took him in. She'll come and find us as soon as she knows anything."

"And how long is that going to take?" Andy grumbled as he crossed his hands over his portly stomach.

"No news is good news, right guys?" Ryan added as he stood awkwardly across the room.

After remaining uncharacteristically silent, Calleigh finally spoke up, addressing those assembled in the room.

"There's not much we can all do here, why don't you head home and get some rest. We'll call you as soon as we know anything."

"Nope, can't do that, Calleigh," Walter said as he took a sip of his vending machine coffee and then grimaced at its foul taste.

"We're staying here until we know H is going to be ok."

"You might have a long wait," she suggested.

"We're not moving until we know what's happening, right guys?"

Walter looked to the rest of the team who all nodded in agreement and then went about making themselves comfortable for the long wait to come.

* * *

Several hours later, Dr Alexx Woods emerged from the ER looking exhausted as she wiped the perspiration from her forehead. She looked at the assembled group and found herself unable to hide the sadness from her eyes as they all looked at her expectantly.

"Why don't you all sit down," she suggested gently.

The comment sent alarm bells ringing in Calleigh's mind; surely Alexx wasn't here to break the news to them that Horatio was dead. He had made it this far, it didn't make sense for him to give up now.

"He's not gone, is he?" Ryan asked quietly.

"No, sugar, he's not."

"What is it then?" Kyle asked as he stood up and made his way towards Alexx, a woman who had shown him a great deal of love and understanding since he'd entered Horatio's life.

"Sit down, honey, and I'll explain."

Kyle found himself following her commands, her maternal nature putting him instantly at ease as he sat down next to her. For the first time since he'd returned home to find his father missing, someone was finally treating him like an adult and not a scared little boy. He didn't feel as if he were being patronised or being told what to do when he was around her, she made him feel like an equal and treated him with a sense of respect.

"Please, Dr Woods. Just tell us what's happening with my dad."

The kindly doctor took a deep breath before she began, placing a hand on Kyle's knee as she began to recite the litany of ailments that the redhead was currently battling.

"The Coast Guard did well to stabilise your father as much as they did before he got here. He was in pretty bad shape when they brought him into the ER and it took us a long time to get him anywhere near stable on the monitors."

"He's lucky that he was so cold when they found him, the hypothermia may have been what saved his life."

"So you'll warm him up and he'll be alright?" Kyle asked, using his rough knowledge of first aid from his Army training.

"It's not that simple, sugar. Your father was severely dehydrated when they brought him in; it's why the EMTs had such a hard time getting any IV lines into him, because of the lack of blood volume they struggled to find any suitable veins."

"So you need to give him fluids then?"

"We have to be extremely careful about how we do it, honey. If we force too many fluids into his system we could end up causing a number of neurological issues and I don't want to risk that with his recent head injury. We also need to be careful about how we go about raising his body temperature; if we do it too quickly we could end up causing organ failure, or worse."

"Is that it, though?" Eric asked, hoping that they'd heard the worst of it.

"No, I'm afraid not. We did some scans after we stabilised him, there's a small amount of swelling around his previous head injury and some internal bleeding in his abdomen likely caused by the explosion."

She looked at the crestfallen faces of her former colleagues and was tempted to leave her assessment there but deep down she knew that she owed it to the team and Horatio to tell them the truth.

"Horatio was struggling to breathe when they brought him in, it looks like he aspirated a fair amount of water before he was found. Because he was unconscious, we had to drain the fluid from his pleural space via a procedure called thoracentesis, which has helped him to breathe a little easier. I'm concerned about pneumonia and the build-up of fluid that could accumulate again."

"X rays showed that Horatio's left arm was broken in two places and will need to be fixed with a metal plate surgically, the fingers are broken but don't appear to be too badly damaged. He's got a number of cracked ribs, some of which are causing the internal bleeding and will need to be monitored carefully."

"We'll stitch the worst of the cuts when Horatio is a little more stable, we've just covered and wrapped them for now. Most of the burns appear to be fairly minor and should heal without scarring in time."

The team struggled to take on board the news and Alexx took pity on them, she was finding the news hard enough to deal with herself. Time and distance had not lessened the strong bond she felt with Horatio, they had kept in regular contact since her decision to quit the morgue and return to her first love of practicing medicine.

She knew that the work Horatio and his team did could often be treacherous, dreading seeing any of them being brought into her ER in need of her attention. This time it seemed worse though, she had never seen her close friend look so pale and lifeless before. She had always seen the redhead as energetic and vibrant; to see him barely clinging onto life shocked her more than she ever imagined it would.

Kyle's quiet voice eventually pulled her from her thoughts.

"Will he be ok, Dr Woods?"

The uncertainty in the young man's face caused tears to well in her own eyes as she regarded the boy who looked so much like his father. She raised a hand and cupped his cheek gently.

"I wish I could tell you that everything will be alright, honey. The truth is...I don't know yet."

She let out a small sigh and wiped at the tears that were cascading down her face.

"There are a lot of factors that could change your father's prognosis, we have to make sure that his body temperature and blood pressure stabilise before we even think about tackling any of the other issues. If we can do that then I believe he'll have a chance. I'm afraid that we'll just have to wait and see and pray that Lady Luck is on our side."

She leant over and placed a tender kiss on the young man's temple before picking up her clipboard and returning to the ER.

The whole team sat in silence as they tried to process what they had been told. Natalia had broken into sobs as soon as Alexx had left and was currently being comforted by Ryan as he held her closely.

Frank sat on one of the hard, plastic chairs in the waiting room with his head in his hands, running his calloused fingers over his balding pate.

"You need to go home," Eric said as he rose from his chair. "I'll stay here with Kyle and Andy. The rest of you should go home and try to get some sleep; we'll need you back at the lab to work the evidence."

"No, we're staying," Ryan said as he reluctantly released Natalia.

"It's not a request, Wolfe. Go home; we'll call you as soon as we know anything."

Eric hoped that this wouldn't turn into a battle of wills, he was already mentally and physically exhausted from the horrific day he'd just experienced. The last thing he needed was a staring contest with Ryan.

He let out a small sigh of relief as the three most junior members of the team left the waiting area reluctantly, followed closely by Frank.

He lowered himself back down to the chair with a heavy thump, before turning his attention to the weary blonde sitting next to him.

"That goes for you too, Cal," he said with a sad smile.

She shook her head vigorously. "I'm not going anywhere, I'm staying right here."

He crouched down in front of the tired woman as he tried to reason with her, "You need to get some rest, when was the last time you slept?"

She did everything she could to avoid his gaze, "I'm fine, Eric. I just need to get some coffee to perk me up a little bit."

He was about to argue when she brushed past him and began striding across the waiting room. He frowned as he watched her go and then gasped in shock as he saw her legs wobble as she raised a shaky hand to her head. He couldn't get to her in time before her legs gave out completely, sending her crashing to the ground.


	97. Chapter 97

"Hey, how you holding up, kid?" Andy asked as he brought another two Styrofoam cups full of rancid coffee back to the chairs in the waiting area.

It had taken a few more hours, but they had finally been told to make their way up to the ICU waiting area where Horatio was being transferred. Kyle had been angered and disappointed that Alexx would not allow him to sit with his father as she insisted that they still had a lot of work to do on him.

And so he sat on the hard and unforgiving plastic chair in the waiting area, watching as doctors and nurses let themselves in and out of his father's room. He wondered what they were doing in there and why it was taking them so long, but more than that he felt helpless. He knew that there was nothing he could do now but wait, but he, like his father, was not a patient man. Both of them were men of action and it stuck in the back of his throat not to be able to do anything to remedy his father's current situation.

His ire increased at the balding man's words, although they were meant to be well-meaning, he once again found himself feeling patronised for being young. It was as if his father's team thought he was a naïve child who had little understanding of what was happening around him. It angered him that they treated him like some naughty little schoolboy, giving him orders and telling him where to go and what to do.

Couldn't they see that he had changed since he met his father and that he was now a grown man and an adult in his own right? Where did they get off telling him what to do and calling him a kid?

He'd fought in a war for God's sake; he'd seen his brothers-in-arms die in the name of duty. Witnessing the horrors of warfare like he had, it had served to make him grow up quickly. He'd probably seen more bloodshed and carnage than the whole of Horatio's team put together.

He'd risked his life out there in Afghanistan, it was about time that his father's team showed him some respect and treated him like an equal.

Andy could see the young man's jaw clench as he gripped his disposable coffee cup tightly in his hands. He tried to rouse him again from whatever train of thought had taken his attention.

"You alright, kid?"

A pair of bright blue eyes shot up and met those of the retired detective, reminding the older man so much of the boy's father.

"Don't call me that," the young man growled, a scowl marring his handsome face.

Andy looked at him, puzzled by his reaction.

"I'm not a kid, so stop calling me that. And stop treating me like one too."

The blue eyes continued to bore into him like lasers, he shifted his weight slightly.

"Sorry, it's just a force of habit. When you get as old as I am, pretty much anyone under the age of fifty is a kid in my eyes."

The blue eyes softened a little as the young man took a sip of his coffee.

"You worked with my father, back in New York?"

Andy shifted his considerable bulk again in an effort to get a little more comfortable.

"Sure did, I was your dad's partner when he was a rookie detective."

Andy smiled at the memory of the young cop with bright blue eyes and even brighter red hair as he strolled into the bullpen all those years ago, all youth and exuberance. His eagerness for the job and his incredible instincts made him a natural; he was a cop that was destined to go far in the NYPD.

"After the first day I met him, I didn't know whether to admire him or hate him. That guy showed me up something rotten."

Andy huffed humorously.

"I was meant to be showing him the ropes, teaching him how to be a good detective. The truth was he was better at the job than I was and I'd been doing it for fifteen years by then."

"I thought you were meant to be his friend?" Kyle asked, puzzled by Andy's observations of his father.

"Of course I was. I guess I was just a bit jealous of him at first, he made the job look easy but I loved that man like a son. We spent a lot of good years together in that squad room before things went…south," he finished quietly.

* * *

She came back to awareness slowly, her eyes fluttering open as she heard the sound of a machine beeping above her head. She groaned softly as she attempted to raise her right arm only to find it being held by someone sitting by her side.

"Hey, Cal. You gave us a bit of a scare, how're you feeling?"

She squinted, trying to make the blurry figure in front of her come into focus. She couldn't make out the details of his face but she would recognise that voice anywhere.

"Eric, what happened?"

"You don't remember?" he asked quietly as he placed her arm back down on the bed, by her side.

She shook her head an instantly regretted it as the room began to spin in several different directions.

"You got up to get a coffee and ended up collapsing in the waiting room. You hit your head on the floor when you went down."

"That's why my head is killing me then," she mumbled as she closed her eyes to stop another wave of dizziness consuming her.

"Alexx says you were physically exhausted anyway, she's put you on a drip to restore your fluids and they're giving you something for the pain too."

She opened her eyes once more.

"How long have I been here?" she asked, gesturing to the drip in her arm.

He gave her a small smile.

"About three hours. I was beginning to worry that you wouldn't come round; looks like you needed the sleep though."

The information made its way through her foggy brain before the realisation struck her.

"Horatio, where is he? Is he ok?"

Eric placed a hand over her arm that had begun making its way off the bed again as she struggled to sit up.

"Easy, Cal," he soothed as he tried to calm the panicked woman down.

"They transferred him to the ICU a little while ago; they still have some stuff to do before they'll let anyone sit with him. Alexx says he's holding his own though."

"I need to see him, Eric. I've got to get up and be with him."

"They won't let anyone in there at the moment; the best thing you can do is lie back and rest, ok?"

She tried to fight him and the weariness pervading her body but found herself losing on both counts as she felt her eyes becoming heavier. Soon, the ability to keep them open became too much and she slowly drifted back off into a peaceful slumber.

* * *

The discussion between Kyle and Andy was disturbed by the kindly black doctor making her way from Horatio's room and towards the seated figures. She sat down next to Kyle and gave his thigh a reassuring squeeze.

"We've got your father settled, honey. He's been holding his own so far, do you want to come and sit with him for a while?"

He looked at her uncertainly, not sure whether he was fully prepared to see the state that his father was in.

He looked at Andy and then back to Alexx.

"Can he come too?" he asked, pointing to the older man.

She looked as though she was about to object but thought better of it.

"Sure, I don't see why not."

She stood up and motioned the two men towards the room that the redhead was currently situated in and stopped just outside the door.

"I have to warn you that your father doesn't look well at the moment, Kyle. You need to be prepared; the sight of him might upset you a little."

A set of strong blue eyes met the motherly brown eyes of the doctor. She nodded her head and opened the door.

Kyle couldn't help the small gasp that escaped his lips as he saw his father lying motionless on the bed, surrounded by dozens of wires and tubes as the hospital staff battled to keep him stable.

As he moved closer he could see the tubes running into each of the redhead's arms and the oxygen mask that covered the bruised and battered face. Looking further down, he was shocked to see that there was hardly an area of his father's body that wasn't covered in bruises, cuts or burns.

The machines beeped erratically as they recorded the man lying unconscious in the bed's fight for life. It also didn't escape Kyle how cold his father's hand felt as he picked it up and held it.

"He's doing as well as can be expected," Alexx began as she made a note of the readings from the monitors on the chart at the end of the bed.

"We're slowly rehydrating him and trying to increase his body temperature at the same time. It'll be slow going as we don't want to put his body under any more stress than it is currently under."

"We'll be taking him for regular scans to keep an eye on the internal bleeding and the swelling in his head. As his blood volume and temperature increase so will his heart rate, we have to hope that the bleeding doesn't worsen in relation to that."

"Can't you just operate?" Andy asked as he stood in the corner of the room, trying to give Kyle time and space with his ailing father.

She looked at the balding man with kind and patient eyes, "With his heart rate and core temperature so low, he wouldn't survive the anaesthetic. I'm afraid that it is somewhat of a catch-22 situation at the moment."

"What are his chances?" he asked bluntly.

"We all know that Horatio is a strong man, physically. In that respect, I'd say his chances were fifty/fifty at best. It's going to depend on his will to survive and a hell of a lot of luck."

She smiled sadly at both men and left the room, before the urge to burst into tears herself became too much to bear.

Kyle gripped his father's cold and limp hand tighter in an attempt to transfer some of his own strength into him as he willed the redhead to keep fighting.

"I'm right here, Dad. You need to keep fighting, you hear me?" he commanded as he felt hot, salty tears fall from his eyes and fell on his father's chest.

"I'm not going to let you go, I promise you."

* * *

Someone stayed by Horatio's side constantly for the next 48 hours as they watched on helplessly as the stubborn redhead battled to survive. There had been many moments of panic and the passage of time was fraught with a number of squeals from the monitors.

Andy sat by his former partner's bedside and held his hand which was now thankfully warmer than it had been two days previously when he'd been found floating in the water off the coast of Miami. The redhead had shown signs of waking during the morning, a soft groan or a flicker of eyelashes every now and then signified that the man in the bed was slowly coming back to awareness.

Alexx had warned them that he was by no means out of the woods yet, as his body temperature, heart rate and blood pressure increased so would his level of consciousness. She had told them that he was still too weak to survive the ordeal of any surgery and that it would be a matter of fate as to whether they would be able to repair the internal injuries without killing him.

Andy felt the pressure on his hand increase, he stood up and leant over the figure in the bed as he saw the one eye not swollen shut open slightly, the blue orb behind it seemed dulled.

"John, can you hear me?"

He increased the pressure on the younger man's hand in an effort to rouse a response from him. He was rewarded with a low moan.

"John, you're in the hospital but you're gonna be alright."

He could hear his former partner struggle to draw in enough breath to speak as his eye opened and closed again. He could've sworn that the other man had fallen back into unconsciousness until he saw the eye open again as it struggled to focus on him.

He could tell that the man was trying to say something to him and so he leaned closer to the bed in an effort to hear him.

The words came out in a breathy whisper.

"I remember," the redhead gasped as he struggled to stay awake.

"I remember everything."

* * *

**A/N: And that, my friends, is that. I want to thank every single person who has read, reviewed or PMed me their comments for this story over the last five months. It has turned out to be one hell of a journey and I hope that you have enjoyed the ride as much as I have.**

**Look out for my new story, coming soon...**


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